anna wanted to make something. she lived at home with her husband james. every morning, james came by her bedside to kiss her goodbye.
"have a good day." he'd say. through the warm spring and snowy winters, james went to work and anna stayed home.
anna dabbled in various art forms. she made watercolor floral and wrote poetry. but anna was sorely unhappy. her heart laid empty without purpose or form.
in the spring she sat under the lighted trees wondering about what the meaning of life was. under cover of early night, she peered through the darkness of her window wondering when her morning of hope would arrive.
james was a lovely husband, supportive in all anna's endeavors. and this made anna even more ill at ease. she felt useless.
"poor me." she pitied.
she was stuck. the kind of stuck that can't be unstuck with a word or two. not even a chocolate cake could unstuck this stuck that she felt.
inside her heart was a yearning unlike any other. a chemical imbalance of the mind that she couldn't just fix willingly. she was deep in sorrow. the kind that called for endless weeping.
all the things she loved was a dim light in the darkness traveling farther and farther away from her. or rather, she from them. it was that hopeless shedding of clothing in the endless tundra of snow in the middle of winter. she'd let it take her if she couldn't help it.
this hole she can't climb out of, no one can fathom the depths. an endless falling.
6 black walls around her. she was floating in the middle uncontrollably. she was terribly afraid.
she was deep in sorrow.
if only she could make something worthwhile, something beautiful that she could give to the world. but the world would take it from her shaking hands without a second glance.
"useless, useless." they'd say.
"have a good day." he'd say. through the warm spring and snowy winters, james went to work and anna stayed home.
anna dabbled in various art forms. she made watercolor floral and wrote poetry. but anna was sorely unhappy. her heart laid empty without purpose or form.
in the spring she sat under the lighted trees wondering about what the meaning of life was. under cover of early night, she peered through the darkness of her window wondering when her morning of hope would arrive.
james was a lovely husband, supportive in all anna's endeavors. and this made anna even more ill at ease. she felt useless.
"poor me." she pitied.
she was stuck. the kind of stuck that can't be unstuck with a word or two. not even a chocolate cake could unstuck this stuck that she felt.
inside her heart was a yearning unlike any other. a chemical imbalance of the mind that she couldn't just fix willingly. she was deep in sorrow. the kind that called for endless weeping.
all the things she loved was a dim light in the darkness traveling farther and farther away from her. or rather, she from them. it was that hopeless shedding of clothing in the endless tundra of snow in the middle of winter. she'd let it take her if she couldn't help it.
this hole she can't climb out of, no one can fathom the depths. an endless falling.
6 black walls around her. she was floating in the middle uncontrollably. she was terribly afraid.
she was deep in sorrow.
if only she could make something worthwhile, something beautiful that she could give to the world. but the world would take it from her shaking hands without a second glance.
"useless, useless." they'd say.