She/I/her
Through my car window I observe the dark, the glow of lights from buildings cars and street lights.Â
The rain does it's dotty patterns; running down in races.Â
Inside my car there is a grief stricken woman, so overwhelmed with life. Smudged makeup and an aching heart.
Her head is scattered, tangled up... although she felt still and silent, still and frozen in that moment.Â
I NEED A MOMENT.Â
Outside the people walk by and the traffic continues. Life goes on.. she feels like dust. Unnoticed and unimportant.Â
life always goes on.Â
After a while she felt ready catch up with the world again, Let's go and face the day with a smile, small talk and another strong coffee.Â
Thank goodness for the safety of the car, no-one had to know she was broken.Â
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Comments
The anxious scream hidden behind glass and steel, no one can hear, no one can feel the pain as is bounces back and forth within the many masks of life.
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There is a silence that is so damning and painful. That awareness of being alone.Â
There are absolutely many masks.Â
Interchangeable and quite different.
As always, thank you for reading and taking the time to appreciate what I have written.Â
R