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Downfall
December 2, 2015
Outside, the sky was gray, dim, cold.
Inside, there were colors. Red, green, black, white.
Inside her was death.
Death tore up her throat and scratched her tongue. Dry was her body and rough was her heart, which agonizingly pumped fatigued blood to tiring organs. Voices whispered behind her throbbing eyes, and chains choked her raspy neck. Her mind was taunted by hovering shadows that blew dreadfully over and away, over and away.
© Carly M., Hopedale, MA
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I wrote this piece when I was not only sick but also in depression.