Saturday, May 7, 2016

deep breaths

he remained silent

he was the type who never speak unless spoken to

he just sat there by the window

the moon's pulsating beam illuminated his curled up body

the cool evening breeze caressed his skin

everything else was pitch black

nothing can be heard except for his soft, muffled sobs resonating across the walls.

memories were relived 

wounds were reopened

so much pain


regret and bereavement 

he grew desperate

desperate to free himself from the clutches of fear

but he had lost his strength

he was fragile and vulnerable


so he just sat there


in the dark

by himself

"i dont know if this is worth it."

and waited till the pain fades away.

because, really, there's nothing he can do

and maybe he will be never worth it anyway


1 comment:

TC said...

An example of a writer describing himself in the third person. Well done and very sensitive. I'm a sensitive reader who loves sensitive writing. Well done!