Hollow

Written by Orchid on June 4, 2014. Posted in Blog

I’m in a suspended state of utter, euphoric bliss until suddenly I realize the birds have stopped singing.  The once safe feeling of the surrounding untamed arboretum now feels like a prison.  Nature is so fickle isn’t she?  It’s as if she knows when one is in love and thus plays ones heartstrings like a violin until one feels firmly secure in ones happiness.  She then waits for the perfect, crystallizing moment to strike one with lightning as she cackles and rides away on the wind.

Laying on the forest floor, now naked and alone where I was once safely clothed in the limbs and lips of my lover, tears fall rapidly from my burning eyes as if to imitate a rainstorm on a most miniature scale.  The earth has hardened beneath my bruised limbs.  On any other day, at any other moment, I would have predicted the coming storm and would have therefore sought shelter until it had passed.  And yet for some reason unknown entirely to me, I managed to miss all the fleeting indicators of discord ahead.

I am bewildered, the contents of my skull feel muddled and disoriented.  I am acutely aware of wrongdoing.  I am most certain I am at fault and yet, I am at a loss as to what it is I have done wrong.

It is most fortunate no appetite stirs within me, for in this unfamiliar territory I fear mistakenly ingesting nature’s poisons more than I fear starvation.

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Orchid

Painted Lady. Brass Acrobat. Aerialist. Snake Charmer. Jill-Of-All-Trades. Nerdery Enthusiast. Show-off. Writer. Photographer. Doodler. Cheese, all the cheese.

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