ALONE
Today I wake up and I look around my bedroom. It is empty with nothing more than paper-cut snowflakes dangling from my ceiling. My walls are grey and the fan is drying the paint. There is no door and there are no windows. My heart is beating softly against the sound of the broken record turning on the player. It scratches; my ears are bleeding from it. I have tears on my face and they sting like the rain - the smell of fresh paint and the smell of pain.
My bed is bare. I run my hands through the softness of my sheets; there is room for two people here. What a waste of space. I wish someone was here to share it with me. There is dust collecting on the floor and a little on my face. I've been waiting here for some while for someone to take this place.
Everything is in slow motion. My lips move softy, "Where is my love? Why has he not found me?". My voice is blurred and distorted beneath a blanket; it is deep and drawled. I run my hands through my hair and then let them fall into my lap. I heard a shatter. A breaking; pieces of glass in my legs. Bleeding again - on the white sheets...the house keeper is going to kill me.
My bed is bare. I run my hands through the softness of my sheets; there is room for two people here. What a waste of space. I wish someone was here to share it with me. There is dust collecting on the floor and a little on my face. I've been waiting here for some while for someone to take this place.
Everything is in slow motion. My lips move softy, "Where is my love? Why has he not found me?". My voice is blurred and distorted beneath a blanket; it is deep and drawled. I run my hands through my hair and then let them fall into my lap. I heard a shatter. A breaking; pieces of glass in my legs. Bleeding again - on the white sheets...the house keeper is going to kill me.