*fell asleep while*
Sandra Cisneros once said that each age is a layer that lives under our skin and forms the people we are. Sometimes we'll feel like we're in our twenties, craving novelty and neon lights. And other times we'll feel like we're twelve again, uncomfortable in ou(more)r bodies and constantly picking fights.
I felt like I was a mere child tonight, needing to be held but having no one there. You fell asleep while I was still crying. And you knew it, but you left anyways.
Three months ago when she showed up at your doorstep, with tears on her cheeks because she wanted you back, you sat on the floor and handed her tissues. You told her she deserved much better. And I didn't hear from you for half the night.
There are just some things I just don't think I can get over. And even though I try and try, the number of times you've told me you loved me still hasn't measured up to the number of times you've shown me. So I stay up til there's lightness in the sky again, just to avoid those familiar boogey monsters that won't seem to leave me alone.(less)
The sound of sharp, serrated objects being raked across an uneven surface has always made me cringe. For example, I hate filing my finger nails when they get too long. It's not just the sound though; it's the feeling of my jagged nails grinding against a coarse surface.
Auto-tune is also a terrible sound. Especially when so many "artists" use it and call themselves good.
"Little Lies" by Fleetwood Mac, however, is in no way a terrible sound. (less)
The firehall is across the street from our house and it's a terrible sound, hearing the trucks bolt into action at any time of day.
Over coffee in the morning, or in the evening over drinks; suddenly the sirens will banshee to life and they'll sound the horn(more)s to clear the roads so trucks can race to attend the latest fire, doom, disaster.
At the most peaceful times the nerve-blaze of sirens will remind us of other peoples' misfortune and the chaos of the city. There are so many people crowded in so close, in such tight obliviousness. Not any of us are too important that Fate looks away from us for very long. (less)
Every night, I wake up from nightmares that end with that terrible sound. Not that it sounded gruesome or disgusting, it can actually sound lovely in other ears. Yet, whenever I hear that sound: my hands tremble, I stand still in fear, my heart stops.
For five years, I've been(more) hearing that sound. Laughter, pure innocent laughter of a ten year-old girl. This terrible sound is a curse for my actions. A car crash that was entirely my fault and irresponsibility. Her mother died on impact. But the ten year-old girl still breathed in a few gasps of air and got a good look at me before she choked in her own blood.
Ever since that crash, I keep hearing a childish giggle on most nights when I am alone in pure darkness. That terrible sound of the ten-year old girl laughing and giggling to torment me from beyond. Even as I was sent to ten years in prison, the constant violence and surveillance were no where near as terrifying for me as hearing that giggle at night while I am alone in my tiny cell. (less)