(Reader Alert: Strong subject matter)
I lay in the unpleasant stillness of my empty room, running my fingers against the grain of the harsh wood floor.
Alone.
Frost covers the hopeful leaves outside my window and I watch the purple sky leak the last of its frozen tears.
I lay here, my body protected by little other than a t-shirt and my long blanket of black hair.
I meditated on the monotony of my frostbitten breaths, memorizing the height at which each puff of frozen air melts and disappears.
This is what I want, I tell myself. But I am not listening.
I give up, allowing my mind to wander around the petty and the trivial, skin unfeeling, wide eyes unseeing.
Home.
Submitted by Taylor Renee
Thursday, September 11, 2008
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