The trees were at at war against the wind. The rain outside my window, tapping with all it's force, it worried me and I was glad to have found shelter. But from the cold, I could not escape. The cold came from inside.
I put my notebook down on the floor and looked up for the first time since I'd let him through my door. He stared right into my eyes as if he could see my soul somewhere behind all the broken glass and bruises. I felt like some washed up shell that had been picked up to be kept as a memory from a distant, beautiful place.
"Why won't you speak? Speak to me. Tell me how you feel." he whispered slowly. I shrugged. This is not a romantic movie. I am not a dreamer. So there I sat silently, with nothing but a hollow gaze as response. "Who did this to you? Who devoured your hope? Who failed your trust? Who on earth lost your love?"
I laughed.
Inga kommentarer:
Skicka en kommentar