Title: Imaginary strength
by Nicole from North Yorkshire | in writing, fiction
I stumble into my room and tears caress my face. The soft salty liquid evidence of my pain. But I refuse to let anyone see me because I'm supposed to be strong, I'm supposed to not care what they think. The coldness of my dimly lit room welcomes me back into its evil clutches, the darkness swallowing me hungrily, pouncing on me like a tiger pouncing on its prey. Slumping to the floor in defeat I start to think, is strength something you're born with? Or is it something you choose? I don't want to be strong anymore, no, I CAN'T be strong anymore. No matter what people may tell you, man's most deadliest weapon is his tongue. Physical pain will heal but I'm sure my broken heart, my wounded confidence, my self respect never will. The tears leave a trail on my cheek, a trail that represents everything that's not supposed to happen. Finally slumber overcomes me and I drift into the clouds like a boat in the river, finally I stop trying to build a wall around myself, I stop trying to pretend everything is ok and for once in a long, long time I can't honestly say " I'm fine " .
This is basically an over the top diary entry . I like it because I'd written it when I was upset and I think it definitely gives you the effect I was aiming for - desperation ,sadness.
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