My Facebook Crush (episode 5)
For the first time since I started stalking Emmy on Facebook, I had an overwhelming sadness tugging at my heart. That night after seeing his reaction to Izie 's comment, I allowed opaque sadness to take me into its smothering embrace. I felt like shedding tears albeit not coming forth. I felt jagged cut and tattered emotions. My eyebrows knotted together and I looked at my polished nails empathically.
Then I picked up my notepad and started a poem. It was just a random words protruding incessantly to my head. I tried as hard as I could to place meanings to them but it was just impossible. I knew I had to scribble something on paper. That was the only way the migraine-inducing feelings would subside. My roommate Beverly was softly snoring beside me, she had doze off after we had dinner. She was one person that doesn't joke with going to bed early. "It energises for a new fresh day, she'd say. I wanted to pinch her so she'd wake up. Maybe talking to her will make a lot of difference. I thought otherwise. I really did try to curtail and get hold of myself, not hard but strength to do so eluded me completely. I resorted to my notepad. Mindless sentences and meaningless phrases of pointless classes flow sloppily from the pencil unto the page.
My heart raced, finding comfort.
I thought It'd be graced in a forte.
Hope brought forth it's head from its hidden place.
My insides leapt in ecstasy, excited for itself.
Tingle! Tingle!! Tingle!!!
Alas! Depression to be finally terminated.
Happiness peaked to match the enormous excitement on my face.
In a daze, loneliness was to be dashed.
I crawled back to my shell and clung to my inner strength.
Apparent dissatisfaction at what transpired.
My chest frantically rising up and down.
I surely need me to survive this heartache.
Words kept coming to my head as I wrote. None of them made sense since I had never tried with poetry. It was something I dreaded. But one mustn't be a poet to express their emotions. An inner mind whispered. I sighed deeply and allowed darkness swoosh over me.
What is more deadly, a gun or a thought?
A gun gives you opportunity but a thought pulls the trigger. And then I doze off.
Read Episode 6
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