In the sugar-coated motion of everyday life,
The crystallized lips--they do not speak.
Passers-by look distorted through the looking glass.
A little like: Looking at Life like a Chagall painting.
Stripping life down to the mere basics,
Letting the old spirits float around you.
The sound of the rain hitting the window pane,
And the wind howling with the wish to enter.
Remind you how Life is in its actuality.
Ready to take you up on a moment's notice.
And not let go of you: Till the eyes are sunken,
And the smiles are gone, the bones jutting through.
Till the dreams die and the soul fades.
Life takes the twinkle of eyes and the dimples.
And promises nothing, but the precious gift of Death.
For Death is reality and Life a mere illusion,
However ghastly she may be!
The white cup balances itself so neatly on the edge of my bed,like a beautiful ballerina about to take off into a graceful leap.
I wonder if I notice because my emotions are stacked the same way?
I have managed to surprise myself so many times.I laugh a giggle and wonder if that's even possible!The heat from the coffee makes my hands warm.
These little things make me smile; I am happy.
The old gray tree outside stretches its fingers, nodding its head in time to the much older wind. Words keep poking around inside my head. Asking me questions, prodding my heart.And I can smother laughter to say: "I'm fine"
I really am.
Spread-eagled on regulation white sheets,a marbled blanket for company.The phones give off a eerie white glow in the background. I stare at the unfamiliar ceiling and think that the smoke detector looks like an alien spying machine. My imagination had always been iffy. I thought of all the boring classes it had saved me from. Of all the things I could be grateful for, I wonder why my imagination had never featured quite on top of the list. The coffee is still warm, it wont stay that way forever!