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Rated: E · Prose · Women's · #1047274
One sunday afternoon
my presence surfacing this room on such a lovely sunday. dark blue curtains dangling from the ceiling to block out any light that the sun tries to radiate in.
darkness spreads into every corner. &i lay here. cold body against hard ground. the carpet piercing up into my back creating intricate patterns of design on my skin.
it is cold today. I went out for a little bit. To the church & back.
I decided to hide away from the world today. to keep me from publicly humilitating myself with thoughts floating around circles of girls.
I want to read a book, but my attention span is lost with each word. I cannot study for my finals as I should be, I'd rather stare into the ceiling thinking about nostalgic memories as I feel the steady burn of the blue carpet into me.
I tried to read a sylvia plath book yesterday, but his face kept floating past my eyes &making a home inside my heart. so i shut the cover quickly &buried my face into my hands.
what in this life is right? She doesn't know.
I don't know.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1047274-Sunny-Sunday