Jittering fingers she’s nervous
“what the fuck is happening?”
This is a first! IT SCARED her
of course it did
it was the first time
she experienced such a feeling, a loss, confusion
and even a bit of nausea
the fucking blinking line why isn’t it moving,
why aren’t her fingers dancing on letters?
Have they become weary
or is it that her brain has become dreary?
She wants to scribble and doodle
even paint a mural but why have her ideas abandoned her?
Could it be that her heart is empty?
Could it be that her spirit is slowly fading
into this so called routine
that they glorify so ideally?
what is happening,
her colors have darkened
and her eyes are dim,
lifeless indeed this is horrific
I am sorry but this does seem grim
Her nails are chipping
and her skin is aching
her brain is screaming,
yearning for a meaning
the loud noise in her head pertains to her,
she only hears it but she looks around,
she wants to see if anyone else,
Could it be that those injections of “busy”
have sedated her wild spirit?
Could it be sucking her blood
deriving the color within?
Could it be that she’s overdosing on “busy”?
Slowly enjoying the things momentarily
before she’s gone completely
As I was ending this entry she looked at me,
got closer she lay her hand on mine
pale white cold skin, long boney fingers
“please don’t let me go”
she said as she locked her blue eyes on mine
I startled and confused asked
“Who are you?”
She smirked using her last joule of energy