The Cooling Walls

Have you ever felt the prick of a needle against cool flesh.?

An ice cube of chilly resolve slide slowly down shivering arms. Before the end it evaporates into the dry air. All that is left is...me.

So I trembled and paced. Limbs stiffend only slightly when I paused to tear out coils of curly hair. So little after the scissor attack I wondered if there remained any left to grab? Tiny emotions bunched together and tied in a pretty knotted bow resting deep in my gut of discontentment.

The neighbors pound on the walls alerting me to my not-so- private siren of agony. Loneliness and the desperation of it, rest in these faded corners closing in.

Is it ending for me now?

Arms fall limply then quietly reveberate off the quivers of my weakened body. A thin stream of crimson leaves a trail of broken dreams before pooling into one curled hand.

These walls are my world. A morbid shelter. A bubble of glass. I dare not move a inch for if it shatters... it kills.

All that will be left are cold fleshy pieces of me.

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