Distance covered by primulas..


Posted on: January 21, 2009

It’s a messy sight.

Perfume, lotion, lipstick, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, foundation… bottles and bottles and countless other containers all sprawled across a small desk. Their reflections bounce off the large unbordered mirror hanging on the wall.

She lies in her bed, eyes red and bleary. In her hand — those lovely hands, so ghostly pale in the dim light — she clasps a wad of tissue, all wet and crinkly with her tears. At that very moment, wet dewdrops well up in her eyes again. Slowly, slowly, they trickle down her face, down onto her pillow, drenching the fabric.

She opens her eyes. Sits up on the bed a little. Stares at the mirror. Her own tear-stained face stares back.

Holding her hand up to the weak moonlight streaming in through the window, she examines her dark red nails. Blood. Nail polish the color of blood.

The wind ruffles the thin, white gossamer-like curtains. They flutter in the wind like butterflies’ wings. She breathes shallowly, hurriedly, as her tears fall again.

The toilette table stands guard close to her as she weeps.

Her heart is broken. The perfume knows. Its gentle, floral fragrance caresses, soothes the broken pieces.

Her heart is broken. The foundation knows. It brushes a soft, powdery hand over the wound, in an attempt to cover it up.

Her heart is broken. The nail polish knows. Its deep red resembles her bleeding heart. It poured, and then smoothed, some of itself onto the sides of the break. All the bottles and containers pushed, and glued the two halves together again.

She sighed, a tired sigh. The broken heart, somewhat healed, beats, slowly, but beats.

What is fantasy and what is real?


2 Responses to "Heart-broken.."

cool post! I suppose fantasy is what you want to believe in, and reality is what you do believe in… 😀

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  • None
  • д§mд: love the way you've ended it :) please update :>
  • д§mд: goodness .. do I love this beautiful swinging chair or what :) Lovely snaps ... :) beautiful thoughts to go with 'em :>
  • Zios: It is hard to imagine anyone giving up driving because someone hit his/her car


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