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She walked along in the night wondering what that feeling was... A want or waiting she couldn't tell which... The night was so steady and comforting that it felt like the arms of a parent. Like nothing could happen to her in the night's great solace... Her head was so full with the worries of the day and the usual clutter inside her own mind. She walks and thinks. So many things in this world so many trials and tumultuous months that run into one another... She is so thankful that she is strong... Or is she? Thoughts they come to her in pairs... One that she is strong, Two that she is loosing her mind and nobody else knows it because she hides it so well... Is she such a good actress that she has even convinced herself? What was that feeling?... Is she forgetting something?, And the rage..... Anger could so easily be derived from the open ended void tugging at her edges... She has noticed that the rage comes easiest when food is involved... If it didn't come out right, throw it out. If it didn't get heated up properly, break everything in the kitchen. Of course the rage is wrapped up tight if another is in her home... "Must act so no one will know her oddities." What was it she forgot to do?... Her hands are cold and they shake, in these times her breathing is shallow and her eyes wider, clenching her jaw... "Make it stop!" She heard stories of when she was a child and the rage she felt... Her mother forever telling her how glad she is that she finally stopped being so angry. As her mother always said "Her childhood years would curdle your blood..." Wondering... Why was she so enraged as an infant, a toddler, a young girl? And why did her mother wonder not? Oh.... Must go home and distract myself. The defining white noise in her mind will surly drive her mad... "Make it stop!" Smiles in the door, she has company... Such a sweet girl she is now, beautiful and with a prestigious job... So young and free... Hmm her company can't stay... She smiles still and hugs them goodnight... She loves them dearly, but the night has been too long and greedy with her mind... Alone in her room at 4am, she looks out into the darkness and wishes with every fiber to be in it, safe in its darkness... To have it take her and soothe the clatter behind her eyes... Night, oh sweet silent night... She must go out, the night is too strong and it offers so much. She stops in the kitchen and tries to make this feeling one that a "normal" person would have... Maybe make a cup of tea and sit in the darkness, under the moon's gentle rays and relax. "That would be nice... That is not odd." Wandering out into the back of her home she already feels giddy, like a schoolgirl sneaking out after hours. Who is she going to see but the moon and the night. Once in the night air she feels almost instantly comforted. Her heart stops crashing so hard within her chest and her breath is not so shallow, she smiles inside and takes a sip if her tea. The night it watches over her and keeps her company and knows all her secrets. Like a life long friend, like a lover... Sitting on her deck her tea almost gone, she opens her eyes to light the small bulb shaped candle on her wooden table... She watches the flame dance on the wick and thinks: of its lack of freedom, it's magnitude contained, it's desperation to live and breathe and multiply.... Isn't that what everyone wants? She feels the night watching her... She wants to answer its question but it does not ask... And the flame dances on... May 5th 2004 |
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