She was feeling brave that day. She took a deep breath and entered the rusty old gate. It didn't creaked because it was already wide open. Good thing. Her hands were comfortably warm in her pockets, and she didn't want to feel the cold iron. However, soon after passing the gates, the wind wrapped her and cut off her breath for a moment. The butterflies around her didn't noticed. The cemetery was sadly quiet that day.
She started walking. For the first time, she didn't feel stupid or paranoid around graves. She was always very cold inside. Sometimes, she thought her heart was made of ice. All the stones looked so beautiful and sad that she actually felt a bit warm. She was nothing compared to all those sleeping souls.
"Where to start?", she asked. "For the beginning", answered the logical part of her brain. Deep breath again. So many flowers. She would eat them if they let her. They're supposed to be only inside her.
Her feet started walking. Her eyes too. One hour later she had read almost every grave, every name of every dead person. She no longer felt the touch of heat. "Where are you?", she asked. But this time, not even her brain replied.
She probably passed there without noticing. They were simply to many. An old man with tears in his eyes looked at her and tried to smile. He knew she was suffering, like he was once. But he was already familiar with that and learned how to control it. She felt them - the tears coming - so she started walking fast to the old and dark tree. She started pinching her thigh. She always did that to calm herself. Then she sat down and put his head between the knees. The tears arrived, at last.
I can not say how much time passed. I though about the salt of my tears. I thought about you laughing with me in the pool. In our chess games. You. When I raised my head again the sun was shinning and there was no wind. I looked to my side and I saw a ladybug walking on my shoulder. I started crying again, this time with joy. I finally realised why I wasn't able to find you before on the cold stones. You were there with me all the time - red, with only one black spot on the edge.
She started walking. For the first time, she didn't feel stupid or paranoid around graves. She was always very cold inside. Sometimes, she thought her heart was made of ice. All the stones looked so beautiful and sad that she actually felt a bit warm. She was nothing compared to all those sleeping souls.
"Where to start?", she asked. "For the beginning", answered the logical part of her brain. Deep breath again. So many flowers. She would eat them if they let her. They're supposed to be only inside her.
Her feet started walking. Her eyes too. One hour later she had read almost every grave, every name of every dead person. She no longer felt the touch of heat. "Where are you?", she asked. But this time, not even her brain replied.
She probably passed there without noticing. They were simply to many. An old man with tears in his eyes looked at her and tried to smile. He knew she was suffering, like he was once. But he was already familiar with that and learned how to control it. She felt them - the tears coming - so she started walking fast to the old and dark tree. She started pinching her thigh. She always did that to calm herself. Then she sat down and put his head between the knees. The tears arrived, at last.
I can not say how much time passed. I though about the salt of my tears. I thought about you laughing with me in the pool. In our chess games. You. When I raised my head again the sun was shinning and there was no wind. I looked to my side and I saw a ladybug walking on my shoulder. I started crying again, this time with joy. I finally realised why I wasn't able to find you before on the cold stones. You were there with me all the time - red, with only one black spot on the edge.
You make me wonder what's the true meaning of beauty
ReplyDeleteI think beauty is a sad little thing hidden behind the lashes
Delete