I run.
to escape this bustling atmosphere.
I stumble into the lav.
My oasis of privacy…
I escape into the last stall.
Turn on the sink…
The flow of the water drowning out the sound of my quiet weeps.
I’m gasping for air.
And my breathing gets faster.
My cries more violent….
And I just let go.
Barely breathing, bawling into my own hands.
As the salty droplets roll down my cheeks.
I realize…
I am not alone.
Beyond the door is another.
Hopelessly sobbing in harmony with me.
We are an orchestra of pain.
I wait until the last tear hits the floor.
I slowly emerge from the safety of my stall.
To see you.
Your last gasp of air lingers.
The air is stale.
The unpleasant odors suddenly more noticeable.
I approach my own reflection with disdain.
I see an unfamiliar face.
A stranger.
She looks so weak.
Then,
I realize its me.
I momentarily forget your presence…
Caught up with unfortunate reality.
Our eyes meet….
And I embrace not being alone anymore.
to escape this bustling atmosphere.
I stumble into the lav.
My oasis of privacy…
I escape into the last stall.
Turn on the sink…
The flow of the water drowning out the sound of my quiet weeps.
I’m gasping for air.
And my breathing gets faster.
My cries more violent….
And I just let go.
Barely breathing, bawling into my own hands.
As the salty droplets roll down my cheeks.
I realize…
I am not alone.
Beyond the door is another.
Hopelessly sobbing in harmony with me.
We are an orchestra of pain.
I wait until the last tear hits the floor.
I slowly emerge from the safety of my stall.
To see you.
Your last gasp of air lingers.
The air is stale.
The unpleasant odors suddenly more noticeable.
I approach my own reflection with disdain.
I see an unfamiliar face.
A stranger.
She looks so weak.
Then,
I realize its me.
I momentarily forget your presence…
Caught up with unfortunate reality.
Our eyes meet….
And I embrace not being alone anymore.
1 comment:
This reminded me of looking in the mirror and seeing someone I don't know. Now I know you are too young to really understand the reality of this, but sometimes it is heartbreaking to me when I see the woman in the mirror who isn't the one I think I am in my mind.
The skinny lady is gone and a chubby Baba is in her place. The pretty face is now sagging in all the wrong places.
I don't like being old. I loved being young.
Enjoy young while you are there. Old comes way too fast. I know, every old person says that, but honestly, it just flows by like a rushing stream.
You are a sweet person Emily.
sitypro
The prose of the city....?
Post a Comment