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Living
June 15, 2010
Mascara is smeared beneath her smoky gray eyes and dilated pupils.
Transparent rivulets of tears flow swiftly down her pallid cheeks.
Deep inside her chest, beneath her breast and her ribs, underneath layers of tissue, is a rapidly beating heart, powering the course of her blood and her life and the throbbing pain she feels from within her, in a place to which even the comfort of her heartbeat fails to travel.
The pounding rhythm will stay with her until her dying day, a constant beat, music to fuel the energy she needs to live and survive the agony that is Life.
© Emma J., Tuck, GA
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This article has 2 comments.
. said...
on Sep. 26 2010 at 9:04 pm
Wow. Very nice. I felt a connection with that poem.........very descriptive.
21 articles 0 photos 97 comments
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"The creative is the place where no one else has ever been. You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be wonderful. What you'll discover is yourself."<br /> - Alan Alda