100 And Counting…
There are so many ways to die.
She knew this. Daily she plotted her death. Little ways.
A sheaf of papers could grow edges and slice knifelike across her white soft throat. The cord of his headset, sprawled oh so innocently across her bed, could stretch and wrap itself like a hungry boa around her neck. The closet door could slam so satisfyingly, crushing her skull into the jamb. Kitchen knives could grow wings. Heavy pots with heavy lids could crash like cymbals into the grapefruit of her head. Cars could swerve and leap over sidewalks.
So many ways.
There’s no point to being here if Here just means pain. Refresh. Reboot. Wipe away years of dried tears, years of rust around your heart, and for what? More pain.
The circle stands unbroken. You can’t get off the carousel. She prayed for the ground to open and swallow her into nothingness. She was so very tired.
3 Comments
Linda
Hi Talyaa,
I found your blog online after watching the 20/20 episode and am glad I did. I can’t get enough of your writing and have been reading every blog post you have written whenever I get a spare hour. You are an amazing writer…I really don’t know what to say. I hope that the book you want to publish sees the light of day and I hope your health improves at least to the point you are not in pain. Life can be so hard…your journey and struggle is so poignant and honest and thank you for sharing.
xo
Linda
me
I’m so glad you introduced yourself, Linda! I’m so happy to fold you into the warm embrace of the wonderful community growing around me (so odd and so wonderful, and with a life of its own!). Welcome, welcome.
xo
Linda
Thank you! I finished the last of your blog posts last night…I feel like I’ve finished reading a book I couldn’t put down. You’re a very talented writer, and your story is beautiful. You need to write your book.
Wishing you all the best and I hope to be following your writing for many years to come.
xo
Linda