MISERY 2
misery pt.2
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Desolated.
Have you ever talked to someone out of boredom?
Not for any sort of human discourse.
Not for genuine connection,
But to fill the void of a restless invention?
His gaze, a summer sky once clear,
Now veiled in clouds of hurt untold,
Each unspoken word a shard of ice,
Piercing the warmth we used to hold.
With a slow face, and suppressed excitement.
Words came out of nowhere,
Came sooner out than I anticipated.
Meaningless whispers, I didnāt mean them at all.
He wasnāt one for emptying his face of expressions.
With guilt, I firmly grabbed his hand and laced my fingers with his.
Resented and feared any signs of detachment.
Felt the trickle of disloyalty and guilt;
Seemed to be the order of the day.
A bitter aftertaste,
Guilt's heavy cloak, a burden I couldn't waste.
Minutes ticked by, draining the color from his face,
I cried for five minutes straight.
Cried without trying to suppress any of the noisy manifestations of grief and confusion.
I was scared.
Lonesome inside my head.
With all the convulsive throat sounds, I finally stopped.
The storm subsided, each ragged breath a beat,
Without the painful, knife-like intakes of breath that usually follow a violent outburst.
When I stopped,
It was a momentous change of polarity inside my mind.
Immediate pacifying effect on my body.
Strange feeling; but a good one.
Saw my reflection,
Face is tear-streaked but quiet expressionless;
Almost vacuous.
Beneath hollow eyes.
Thought to myself,
"A pretty crier," I sigh,
Reflecting not just moments,
But a hollow sky.
After all this emptiness, is this all that's mine?
The question hangs heavy, an echo in the fading sign.
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