Today I'm going to show you all another journal entry. This one I wrote about 3 months ago, and I hope you all enjoy it.
Tender hands like the soft falling of leaves caress my face. Sleep fills my eyes and my shoulders droop downward. My eyelids weigh bricks as my head leans foward. The serenity of this embrace sleeps my mind as my head turns, my lips meet his and my eyelids close. Then everything goes black...deep like an abyss.
When light resurfaces to my eyes I remember how sore my body is and the noise in my head crashes painfully as it returns. I turn to the side the embrace is gone and I sigh as I realize my imagination took over my reality once more. No matter at least I slept in peace. My eyes turn towards my phone to see the time. 8am. Two hours, that's how long I had managed to submurge myself in my own subconcious. I try to remember what I dreamt about- all I can remember is darkness. Better that than another nightmare.
I looked at the phone again. No new messages, no missed calls. I close my eyes in pain, the noise doesn't cease. My head thumps terribly. I sigh, how I wish I could fall asleep again. I grab the pill box out of the bedside table and my water bottle. I swallowed and then tears ran down my face as I lay on my back. I felt the lump in my throat, the one that always threatens to burst into screams of hysteria... I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, but it drowns my anguish and I can remain silent- I must not wake anyone up with silly childish pain.
The medication begins to work and I feel the silence crippling to my mind. My eyelids turn heavy and everything is dark once more.
Images race through my mind. Colors, whirlwinds they are filled with life and pure beauty. But the colors begin to burn my eyes, then everything turns gray. Then it all morphs into a face, the face that belongs to the hands that caress my own face. Oh how I long for that face! To feel my burning lips against your warmth. Pain rips through my veins out through my skin and I wake up with a gasp...
Tender hands really do caress my head. These though, are worn out from decades of work. They smell like onions and spices, they relxax me. My mother.
"Have some breakfast" she tells me in her honey-sweet voice "It heals a broken heart."
-Lee
Tender hands like the soft falling of leaves caress my face. Sleep fills my eyes and my shoulders droop downward. My eyelids weigh bricks as my head leans foward. The serenity of this embrace sleeps my mind as my head turns, my lips meet his and my eyelids close. Then everything goes black...deep like an abyss.
When light resurfaces to my eyes I remember how sore my body is and the noise in my head crashes painfully as it returns. I turn to the side the embrace is gone and I sigh as I realize my imagination took over my reality once more. No matter at least I slept in peace. My eyes turn towards my phone to see the time. 8am. Two hours, that's how long I had managed to submurge myself in my own subconcious. I try to remember what I dreamt about- all I can remember is darkness. Better that than another nightmare.
I looked at the phone again. No new messages, no missed calls. I close my eyes in pain, the noise doesn't cease. My head thumps terribly. I sigh, how I wish I could fall asleep again. I grab the pill box out of the bedside table and my water bottle. I swallowed and then tears ran down my face as I lay on my back. I felt the lump in my throat, the one that always threatens to burst into screams of hysteria... I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, but it drowns my anguish and I can remain silent- I must not wake anyone up with silly childish pain.
The medication begins to work and I feel the silence crippling to my mind. My eyelids turn heavy and everything is dark once more.
Images race through my mind. Colors, whirlwinds they are filled with life and pure beauty. But the colors begin to burn my eyes, then everything turns gray. Then it all morphs into a face, the face that belongs to the hands that caress my own face. Oh how I long for that face! To feel my burning lips against your warmth. Pain rips through my veins out through my skin and I wake up with a gasp...
Tender hands really do caress my head. These though, are worn out from decades of work. They smell like onions and spices, they relxax me. My mother.
"Have some breakfast" she tells me in her honey-sweet voice "It heals a broken heart."
-Lee
