Tuesday, June 16, 2009

she stared at the perfect view, and shivered in the wind. the kite in the tree cawed, and swooped around looking for food for her nesting babies. the trees mumbled to themselves, the birds shrieked to themselves, the bats probably shrieked to themselves too as they swooped around in the gathering darkness. she'd like to think that someone coming up the stairs would be struck by the composition of the scene, a miserable girl with her hair blowing around, bats, sunset, plants, and even palm trees in the distance. it was what she strove for, perfection. composition. everything she did was deliberated, she cried in places where people would stumble upon her and think of how touching it was that she wanted to be alone, she did things with cold blooded calculation, but with the greatest depth of emotion anyone has ever known. her head was a paradise for psychologists, they would happily wander around the labyrinth for centuries, unearthing new doors and openings every minute. split personality much. she depended on people, yet pushed them away, she ate away at relationships and them pined for them back, she set limits for herself and changed them sporadically, she broke hearts, broke her own, and never really mended it, just picked out a new one from the shelf.
but her hearts were over, out of stock.

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