Sunday, 23 December 2012


JournalWord: Beyond the black hole.


She dreams of lying on a hill on a fall night, grass blinking at the stars in sprinkled dew. She would be cold, and she’d shiver and shake at every rustle of the wind, but maybe, for once, she’d be happy and painless. 

It would be dark and quiet, as if the world was suspended on tight, thin wires, with only her light breath disturbing the peace. She would spend the night counting the shattered galaxies, the shimmering atmospheres, in whispers meant only for the moon. It would feel intimate and infinite, like a satisfied wholeness to one’s being. 

It’s a dream where she doesn't feel exhausted every time she inhales. It’s nothing more than a wish to reach out with steady hands and pluck the glitter before her. It’s a dream, an illusion, far beyond any point of reach, however, beyond her closed, bruised eyes, she’s stuck on a mattress that’s sucking her body into its collapsing foam. 

She would burst out crying every time it feels like her ribs are ripping through her skin when she breathes. There is no silence in her white washed room; the beeps and hush of alien machines would tilt and snap the wires of her suspended world and send it crashing into the other planets. 

Her whispers to the moon are unheard through the brick walls and sealed window. She just wants to fall into her sky, into the quiet constellations, and finally feel beautiful. She only wants to lie in the cold, and numb reality in a revolving, never-ending, silence.


I really want to know which stories you like, so please read and review :)
Awaiting your comments, 


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