Empty Veins

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

The paper thin walls could not hold the voices. They leaked out, as heavy ink tends to do, and clung to my bedroom walls. The warmth of the white comforter was not soothing but heavy and suffocating. I gripped it tight as I felt the first stages of perspiration form on the arch of my back. My body was tense, my shoulders, my feet, my thighs. My throat was, too, and it did not take long for me to realize that I was holding my breath. I released it in small exhales so soft and methodical that my lungs felt little comfort.
I could hear my name murmured, the featherlike cries of my mother. She could not explain herself well when she was filtered in anger. In my mind I did the arguing for her. You forgot to mention this and add that to make your point more clear. I was a fool to think she would somehow hear me, somehow grasp my aid through the dense air.
The first short silence came and lasted for an exaggeration of seconds. I thought about getting up; I could feel the impact of the cold wood floors hit my bear feet as I would walk the short distance to the other room where she stood amidst a fiery cloud of anger and hurt. But my body paralyzed and useless stayed in the small cocoon I was entangled in. While my limbs remained in a sort of self injected anesthesia, my doe eyes unthinkingly scanned the wall before me and blindly followed the sheer curtains that rested their ends on my bed.
I feigned sleep for a while longer, disregarded the realization of my eighteen year old body surrounded by immense heat. Still stiff, I closed my eyes and ignored the burning blood that ticked underneath the epidermis that I could not undress from. Ignored the ashen trails it would leave behind. Ignored my bitter breath. And for a moment my veins were empty. Drained out and flooded to fill the depths of the paper thin walls until I could no longer hear anything but the sizzling of my skin underneath the sheets.



{I finally broke out of my writer's block. Usually it feels good but I'm having a rather difficult time enjoying it due to the circumstances.}

9 comments:

Lindsey December 24, 2009 at 4:21 AM  

I really like your blog, esp your photos. It inspires me to take better pictures :]

Sher December 24, 2009 at 10:45 AM  

Crystal, keep on writing, you have a really special gift!!

I wish you a wonderful and magical Christmas with your family and loved ones! I'm so glad I found your blog:)

xx

evelyn December 24, 2009 at 12:50 PM  

i really.......like this! :O

and Have a wonderful merry Christmas too Crystal!! <33
^_^

The Owl Diary December 24, 2009 at 1:47 PM  

such a talented writer. i loved this. i hope you have a happy christmas.
xx

Elaine December 24, 2009 at 2:57 PM  

Writer's blocks are no fun. You are an amazing writer!!!


Have a Merry Christmas!
clothedmuch.blogspot.com

Jayne December 24, 2009 at 10:33 PM  

STUNNING. Simply stunning. This literally gave me chills. Don't let those writer-doubts talk you out of pursuing that creative writing major. There's no way I'm going to let you not share your gift with the rest of the world. :)

I epicly responded to your comment by the way lol. It's Christmas Eve and apparently I have a bad case of verbal diarrhea. Hope you're having a good holiday season! xoxox

steve January 8, 2010 at 4:00 AM  

The method for really bringing out the veins just before the steps on stage. There are good review about varicose veins pregnancy that is detailed.

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