Last night it was cool enough to sleep with the windows open. It was quiet without the hum of the air conditioner. All I could hear was the faint whistle of the wind, the leaves shaking on the trees. The world outside crept through my window. Reality filler my room. My eyes were wide and I could feel electricity run up and down my spine, feel the blue blood course through me. I wiped the tears with my blanket. In the morning they were invisible. I wonder how many tears have been dried on these sheets. I wonder how much sadness is imprinted on this cotton.
The power of a word. One word that can make or break you. It can build you up or tear you down. I find that recently, the nature of words find no neutral ground. I find that recently, my tears cling to the commas before “but”, and the pit of my stomach has fallen into that silent space between two people when nothing more can be said. I find that recently, I’ve actually been holding onto these tiny moments much longer than I give myself credit for. Books teach me to be strong. To let the words roar within me until my heart pumps them out of my bloodstream. Book teach me to be confident. To read the one line “I love you“‘s at the tail end of chapters and think to myself that it is real. Books tell me to be true. To not only myself, but others as well. I find that recently, I fail to listen to what books tell me.