Stumble It!
The Dead Girl In Your Head
Wednesday, February 27, 2008 at 05:24PM 
My bed sheets are charred with with stains of fallen embers. Little burn holes here and there. Some burns larger than others, leaving threads bare and scorched. I wrap myself in their remnants. It's true, there was a time, when small flames fell like rose petals in the air, all of over my bed to make way for you. So long ago, I can barely smell the ashes anymore. And you well, you're long gone. That was back when I was alive. Now I'm surrounded by padded satin and the stale air of rot. I can hear them all out there...talking to me in their heads so that no one else can hear their weaknesses.
Everybody wants to know the same thing. They all want to know, what being dead is like.
"How does it feel?"
"How does what feel?"
"You know...that moment when you die, does it hurt?"
""No, not entirely."
"Than what does it feel like?"
"Like nothing...you just go numb"
"Numb?"
"Yeah, numb. So that you can't FEEL anything, anymore."
"Just like that? It was that easy?"
I don't want to talk anymore, at least not with the living- they exhaust what is left of me to be exhausted.
No, of course dying wasn't just like that, idiot! First came the rage, the bottled up hate that erupted, then came the burning. No one seems to understand. I'm lost in a wooden box of bitterness and resentment, lined with pure unadulterated, unabridged rage. My throat is raw from screaming on all of your deaf ears! You can't have one without the other. You can't love so hard, without hating so viscously- at least not in my world. What was my world.
Back when I was alive, I had glow-in-the-dark paint that I used to write words in a flourishing script on my walls. I would turn off the lights and the walls of my room would read "Live Life with Passion" in Spanish. During the day it was my secret. I would rub flower petals transparent between my fingers at the grocery store. I stomped my body weight into the ground when I danced. Those words were my daily reminder that I could feel. That's how I lived. Now, its gone. They all want to know how it feels, when they can't imagine what its like not to feel at all.
http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/
Reader Comments (7)
I am saddened for the loss of my good friend, can she come back some day and play? I think so, I hope so...it seems that hope is what is missing from your story, your world. Who took it away from you? Damn that person! See how believable your story is! Can anyone help your character find hope again? Is it lost forever? A furry little puppy gives you hope and believes in you and has nothing but love in his eyes, tongue and heart - so hold onto that puppy dammit!
Vivir la vida con pasion, huh? Yes....always yes.
This was powerful. I've been linking thru different parts of your site. You're very talented...you have some beautiful stuff here both in the written and visual medium.
That was really good. Well done!
You are such a talented writer. I enjoy coming here. Thanks so much for your kind comments on my blog.
What an unusual and deep piece. I'm so glad I dropped in.
i love love LOVE the last line! It's a brilliant ending!
And thanks for leaving such a nice comment on my blog :)
Thank you for visiting my blog and leading me to your scrumptious art, and writing. I love your diverse blog, what a plethora of joyfulness! Glass art, your ink on sheets....just amazing! Your family youtube video, phenomenal! Watching the youtube self portrait was a unique treat too! I love the world of Indy music, art and film. Your blog will be a definite lure for me! Thanks for the lovely comments on my blog. Keep up the great work!!
Peace Giggles