Time stood still & so did She
She stood in the driveway with time drifting by her, for every 15 seconds that past her she lost another 5 lines of poetry
Although now she had remembered 3.
Should she give in and walk back into the house, alive with laughter, warmth and joy… disrespecting it with her stone call icy breeze that insisted on following her everywhere
All she wanted was a pen, a pencil, a rock, anything that would leave a mark
She needed it out, written down, the urge to scrawl it down was overtaking her
Her words only became audible when laid out on lines
Words that escaped her mouth had little to no impact
She could never find the way to deliver them
But when spewed onto paper, her bulimia became that little bit more glamorous, artistic, recognized..
Or maybe a little too much.