She threw the heart-shaped locket as hard as she could manage. Every possible ounce of frustration went into her thrust and even though she may have forgotten the necklace was still attached to her neck, she still felt liberated. Her anger was beautiful. It was like a flower bursting with violent and deep crimson...and a hint of darkest blue. When we look upon such things, we can only marvel and want to feel and experience the unfolding of every tainted petal.
Gravity wins though. It always does. The locket swung in a half circle and hit her square in the back of the head. "Ouch!" she exclaimed with such enthusiasm that I was able to hear her voice transition from rage to humility. She was mad. Extremely, and yet appropriately mad. We always are when hearts are at stake. It would feel a thousand times lighter to be able to hurl them across the most distant sea and into oblivion. But gravity always wins. Petals once appreciated for their anger will wither and loose their hue.
And as they fall to the ground
The necklace swings back 'round
And we are left with humility
And ever constant gravity
1 comment:
You are beautiful and i love reading your words.
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