** WALLS **
Surround me, crush me, kill me. They taunt, they mock, they overwhelm. The pillars of my home they were - supporting my life, gaining faith from me - faith that they would always stand strong,protecting me from the turmoil of the world.Lighting the top of my cigarette and watching the embers glow bright,I leaned back into the artificial leather of my couchand let out a low, raucous laugh as nictoine ravaged my lungs.
C
I had wall-papered my walls, covering the ugly, dirt grime cement they used to be.They complemented my freshly tiled floor and smooth woodwork funiture in the house. They brough warmeth, comfort, protection and a tinge of love. They were what I dreamed for, they were mine.
They showcased my prized possesions - pictures, certificates, my art. My Walls had been my sercurity. Disturbed by the incredulously long day at work, the overwhelming to whiz home and submerge in the unusual privacy of home, was more often than not, my source of strength. The unwanted scribbles of little nephews and nieces were memories of family gatherings. Gatherings now rare but always treasured. So it was that one night, I was on the bed soaking in the peace and tranquility that came with strong walls, when i saw the first sign of betrayal.
C
There, at the top of it, was a hairline crack. Nothing much, but to me, it was the first sign of betrayal that always hurt the most. There they were , tall and big, commanding respect and the one tiny flaw would allow the most minuscule of doubt to creep in like a stealthy theirf in the night. But oh no, to my angusish, the crack was just the start of my terror, which had also unintentionally, entered through my door and devoured my whole house, walls and all.
C
The earthquake had been cited one of the region's most terrifying and desturctive, killing a total of four hundred people and doisplacing almost half a million. That night, i developed a strong hatred for my walls. One in a state of distress would always look for an alternative blame and whi else ipoint to but my trusted walls, the ones i beautified with wall paper, the ones i wiped pristine every other day, the ones that held my meomries. have i not treated them well? By caving in, is that their way of expressing gratitude?
C
They had trembled and shook. U held onto them for my life, but instead they pushed me away and flung me to the other side of the room, devoid og compassion.Theu no longer protedeted me from the real world. Menacingly, they had expressed me to the black velvet sky, replendent with stars, blinking wanly as though mocking me. I curled ip and sought desperate shelter from the horrifying disater but there was none.
C
I started. the burn embers were hanging precariously at the end end of the cigarette. I stubbed them out. Months of paper work had finally attained me a dingy rented flate, one which was surrounded , not by walls but emptiness
*** ***
profound, allusive, engaging & impressed arent you..
but well its written by my dear crazy and bimbotic cheryl...
yes...cant belif yeah..
totally so un-cheryl isnt it...
check out our cam.whore moment...
you lagi wont believe its written by her
