I'll be okay, just not today.

This is a piece from a story I was working on called "Paper Cuts". I may finish it someday...

"Numb, numbness, n u m b n e s s," a slow, monotone chant departs two dry, plump lips. Each word follows the next, like a small train of dancing wisps, carrying the scent of cigarette and coffee. She maneuvers her large hazel eyes, in a nonchalant manner, as if vision were an inconvenience--a curse. She looks to the dingy walls of her bedroom, connecting them to the cobwebs in each corner of her solitude.

N u m b.

N u m b.

N u m b...

She continues to repeat, until each letter rearranges itself, crashing against the walls of her mouth, making them sound foreign.

She makes an arch with her body, bringing the curve of her hips up towards the sky. A yoga pose, she's learned. With her elbows at her ears, she breathes into her stretch, then lowers her body down onto the bed. It's dressed in billows of soft, light blue fabric, and adorned with a goose down castle, unaware she is the crown. The cold of the morning absorbs into the linens, sending chills to dominate her flesh. Goosebumps. She smooths them down with the palms of her hands, and then twists her torso to reach for a leather bound journal, leaning against a lamp. She drapes herself in the comfort of textiles, opens her journal, pen in hand, and begins to write:

September 14, 2012

A shell comprised of fragments of my former self

A self which I was never fully acquainted with

So how do I truly know of a former self?

Have I, in the state of a self induced coma

Locked small pieces of myself deep within the dark caverns of my mind?

Like broken shards of glass each with different memories protruding from a switchboard

Electrical circuits malfunction all the time

Am I in a malfunctioned state of mind?

Is there something gone askew, missing within me?

I am numb. Numb to the cold of the world outside these walls and windows

The sun will attempt to befriend me with no success, for I need no warmth here

I have been abandoned

Left to fend for my sanity,

left to fend for the numbness

I must feed the numbness

For this is my armor, my protection, my refuge

Am I safe here?

Will the numbness last?

Does anything last?

Author's Note

I am aware that my writing is highly flawed, but I'm attempting to get over the fear of sharing my work. Thank you. (Image from www.saatchiart.com)

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[MrsHydrangea]

One's suffering disappears when one lets oneself go, when one yields — even to sadness. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry