She's Not The One Who's Blinded
So walking out of school, barely lifting her converses off the ground, she lifted her fallen hair out of her eyes. With a glance at the people passing by, she started on her daily walk home. The past day wasn't anything special. Nothing great nor anything bad. It started raining as a drizzle, but then quickened into a downpour. Just her luck. No jacket, white shirt, and new shoes. The everyday "saunter" was an agonizing fight of survival. Running make-up forms cursive words across her face. Can you spell "flaw"? Yes, she could. It was written through her mind. Permanently chiseled into her.
"Flaw," she said. "an imperfection; defective".
The definition liquified in her sinuous veins. The deluge continued as she walked. Fully aware of her surroundings, memories flashed. Her mind spun in sharp directions cutting pain from her temples. The darkened ambience of the sky and the shadows....or what seemed like shadows. No, they were signs. Signs foreshadowing what lies ahead...yet they don't interpret anything. Her future...maybe tomorrow or a week or even a month or year....Things will all change. For better or for worse, it's not written in stone.
She wasn't that simple, yet so complex all around. The walk was the reality check. It made sure she was still vigilant; watching her back. It loomed over her head trapping her from outside connections. But no, she had her resources; her saviors. She wasn't completely confined.
With expanding breath and heartbeat growing rapidly, her body trembled slightly. Ever so slightly, yet too fragile and worn. Needing to be caressed, it was unused. Her hair saturated, and her insides still dry. No...no...her insides were blood-soaked.
"Flaw," she repeated. "An obscure flaw....
and remember me when
you pour yourself another glass
reminisce the memories
not too long ago
your head spins and you add
another smack of vodka
so when its the two of us
all alone
i speak to you with body language..."
With the struck of lightning and the sound of thunder, she disenchanted. She realized she was still outside of her school...she hadn't taken one step forward. It blocked her. There was no way around...
I don't know how I wrote this. I reread it and all I see is confusion for the outside world.
"Flaw," she said. "an imperfection; defective".
The definition liquified in her sinuous veins. The deluge continued as she walked. Fully aware of her surroundings, memories flashed. Her mind spun in sharp directions cutting pain from her temples. The darkened ambience of the sky and the shadows....or what seemed like shadows. No, they were signs. Signs foreshadowing what lies ahead...yet they don't interpret anything. Her future...maybe tomorrow or a week or even a month or year....Things will all change. For better or for worse, it's not written in stone.
She wasn't that simple, yet so complex all around. The walk was the reality check. It made sure she was still vigilant; watching her back. It loomed over her head trapping her from outside connections. But no, she had her resources; her saviors. She wasn't completely confined.
With expanding breath and heartbeat growing rapidly, her body trembled slightly. Ever so slightly, yet too fragile and worn. Needing to be caressed, it was unused. Her hair saturated, and her insides still dry. No...no...her insides were blood-soaked.
"Flaw," she repeated. "An obscure flaw....
and remember me when
you pour yourself another glass
reminisce the memories
not too long ago
your head spins and you add
another smack of vodka
so when its the two of us
all alone
i speak to you with body language..."
With the struck of lightning and the sound of thunder, she disenchanted. She realized she was still outside of her school...she hadn't taken one step forward. It blocked her. There was no way around...
I don't know how I wrote this. I reread it and all I see is confusion for the outside world.