She is me

by TGoldz

Sadness greeted me this morning. She invited me to stay in bed with her all day.
I asked her what made her come to visit and she said,
“I’m not sure. But since I came all this way, I’d like to remind you of your imperfections. Can I sing them to you?”
I told her no.

That made her sing louder. I walked to the beach as she sang to me, desperately trying to ignore each verse.
I introduced my friends to her; they held me close and politely asked her to leave.
She told them no.

Throughout the day she softly hummed, occasionally changing her tune to make certain I couldn’t forget she’s there.
She begged me to indulge in her: to crumble completely so all that’s left of me is her voice. I wanted nothing more than to give in to her familiar cozy cocoon. But I pushed through, upright.

Now her melody is merely background noise as she rocks me to sleep. She whispers in my ear that she’ll visit me again soon. She says,
“Next time I’ll bring the string quartet.”


Mohamed Sarfan's picture
Dear Poeter, A woman is the originator of every human being on earth. Is it true that one of the emotions in life's journeys in the course of time is good within every human being? Bad or right? Are poured into emotions. The pages in the textbook of life are full of mysteries and changes. Love, lust, tears, smiles, nostalgia are all realities of this life. All The Best My Dear Friend; Write More Congratulations

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