She says I can't.
I say there's no stopping me now, thanks for the inspiration.
I glance up with a frown of concentration
I thought I was a tiny part in each of your lives. A fading background character that tries so terribly hard to hang on to the words on a page to make a difference in the story of someone else's book. I tried to pull myself up onto that ledge, to find a place on the center stage but the light shone too bright.
I swung and tried to pull myself up to where everything begins; the rubble. I've never had the upper body strength or willingness to think that I could ever really pull myself onto that ledge without help. It was a little too late to realize that there was solid ground just inches below. And before I knew it, I was falling. That's when the world went tumbling about, turning this way and that. Then it all caved in.
I woke up in emptiness; on pages so white that they could blind you. But for me it was pleasant to look at. Everything was empty and time seemed to hold its breath; waiting for something to happen at almost any moment. But what?
Within my closed fist was an object. It pulled and tugged at my fingers trying to do whatever flying pens do of course. It skid across the pages writing tales of lies and deception, mistakes and fakes, bravery and cowardice. It made no sense to me but I knew it was mine. For once, I had my place at center stage with the lights shining on me. This is my life, my world. My book.
I say there's no stopping me now, thanks for the inspiration.
I glance up with a frown of concentration
I thought I was a tiny part in each of your lives. A fading background character that tries so terribly hard to hang on to the words on a page to make a difference in the story of someone else's book. I tried to pull myself up onto that ledge, to find a place on the center stage but the light shone too bright.
I swung and tried to pull myself up to where everything begins; the rubble. I've never had the upper body strength or willingness to think that I could ever really pull myself onto that ledge without help. It was a little too late to realize that there was solid ground just inches below. And before I knew it, I was falling. That's when the world went tumbling about, turning this way and that. Then it all caved in.
I woke up in emptiness; on pages so white that they could blind you. But for me it was pleasant to look at. Everything was empty and time seemed to hold its breath; waiting for something to happen at almost any moment. But what?
Within my closed fist was an object. It pulled and tugged at my fingers trying to do whatever flying pens do of course. It skid across the pages writing tales of lies and deception, mistakes and fakes, bravery and cowardice. It made no sense to me but I knew it was mine. For once, I had my place at center stage with the lights shining on me. This is my life, my world. My book.
No comments:
Post a Comment