silverlynx-
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Daily 27th March
You narrowed your eyes
The world is waiting for me.
He is called my husband.
The door is messy.
The place itself is gone
but I was at home.
I don’t think you’re stupid.
It has to be stopped.
I slept all night.
Your head is full of yellow flowers.
It concerns millions of people
It was like the world before my eyes.
He looked at the table.
Follow your dreams
We live in a world full of dreams.
We have a structure.
The interior was perfect.
For distance learning.
Something special.
Someone who can make you laugh.
It was a sad day.
I narrowed my eyes, staring out of the window as the world ran past me, buzzing with life. Locked up inside this cage, it was hell. The metal bars laughed at me as I punched them and hit them, my anger focused on my balled fists. I came back with my hands raw and throbbing.
I peered as far through the bars as possible onto the street. A shadow slipped through the bustling crowds. My husband.
“Dan!” I cried, my voice hoarse and tired. He didn’t look up.
He reached towards the handle and I smiled, relief shining on my pale thin face. He suddenly pulled his hand back.
“Ugh! This door is so messy! No way I’m opening that!” He exclaimed, disgusted.
My last link to the real world. Gone. My actual home was gone, but my heart was still there.
“I don't think you’re stupid!” I sobbed, my head buried in my hands.
What was I doing?
This was disturbing.
My husband.
He’s up to something.
“Stop him!” I screamed.
And yet I slept all night, and when I woke up, I didn’t remember a thing.
Then I saw him again. He tried the door, but pulled back. Again, I shouted and yelled at him to come back. Then, as he turned away, I saw clumps of yellow flowers stuck in his hair.
“You’ve got something in your hair, love.” I whispered to him.
People were glaring at his head as he walked past them. This now concerned millions of people. A tug of sorrow pulled at my heart as he was jeered at.
Then he looked at a table. It was right beneath him. He dived under and lay there, shivering, his arms wrapped around him to protect himself from the mocking voices of the crowd. The people closed in and lifted the table up, revealing a trembling lump. Then he unfurled and stood tall upon the rickety table.
“I want to be a florist. I will follow my dream. The world is full of dreams, like flowers. So, my very first creation is here.”
He pointed to his head. Tear glistened in my eyes. I wish he didn’t have to suffer this. He was no w a dream to me as well. A faraway dream in a swirling churning mass of dreams.
You narrowed your eyes
The world is waiting for me.
He is called my husband.
The door is messy.
The place itself is gone
but I was at home.
I don’t think you’re stupid.
It has to be stopped.
I slept all night.
Your head is full of yellow flowers.
It concerns millions of people
It was like the world before my eyes.
He looked at the table.
Follow your dreams
We live in a world full of dreams.
We have a structure.
The interior was perfect.
For distance learning.
Something special.
Someone who can make you laugh.
It was a sad day.
I narrowed my eyes, staring out of the window as the world ran past me, buzzing with life. Locked up inside this cage, it was hell. The metal bars laughed at me as I punched them and hit them, my anger focused on my balled fists. I came back with my hands raw and throbbing.
I peered as far through the bars as possible onto the street. A shadow slipped through the bustling crowds. My husband.
“Dan!” I cried, my voice hoarse and tired. He didn’t look up.
He reached towards the handle and I smiled, relief shining on my pale thin face. He suddenly pulled his hand back.
“Ugh! This door is so messy! No way I’m opening that!” He exclaimed, disgusted.
My last link to the real world. Gone. My actual home was gone, but my heart was still there.
“I don't think you’re stupid!” I sobbed, my head buried in my hands.
What was I doing?
This was disturbing.
My husband.
He’s up to something.
“Stop him!” I screamed.
And yet I slept all night, and when I woke up, I didn’t remember a thing.
Then I saw him again. He tried the door, but pulled back. Again, I shouted and yelled at him to come back. Then, as he turned away, I saw clumps of yellow flowers stuck in his hair.
“You’ve got something in your hair, love.” I whispered to him.
People were glaring at his head as he walked past them. This now concerned millions of people. A tug of sorrow pulled at my heart as he was jeered at.
Then he looked at a table. It was right beneath him. He dived under and lay there, shivering, his arms wrapped around him to protect himself from the mocking voices of the crowd. The people closed in and lifted the table up, revealing a trembling lump. Then he unfurled and stood tall upon the rickety table.
“I want to be a florist. I will follow my dream. The world is full of dreams, like flowers. So, my very first creation is here.”
He pointed to his head. Tear glistened in my eyes. I wish he didn’t have to suffer this. He was no w a dream to me as well. A faraway dream in a swirling churning mass of dreams.