envisioned

"envisioned"

she feels apart from all of it somehow.
engulfed, entwined, maybe even flattened beneath its weight.
the strength and layers of it holds her.
it forces her down, under where she wants to be.
overnight it changes.
on a whim it changes.
she cannot control how it embraces her.
feelings so vast she is consumed by herself.
and yet completely unable to verbalise it to any other.
it whirrs within her brain.
behind her eyes she sees it all as something completely out of her grasp.
her peripheral vision is shifted.
turned on its own axis.
up becomes under and down is now topside.
she wishes it better, knows it will not, begs it back

sunday scribblings - worry

"worry" for sunday scribblings

worry

her sister is a worrier. she sits at home and frets over the slightest thing. how the weather will affect her best friend's son's baseball game. or what mrs smith's scan results are. or will there be traffic on the way to the beach house in three months' time. will the kids do well with their exams. will little billie find his way to the supermarket or get hit by a bus. some of these things are out of her hands. just a minute of concern but not hours and hours of fretting and tedious worrisome pacing. at some point her sister will phone and reveal that all went well. the kids are doing fine, mrs smith's scan shows a smudge but the doctor is confident it will be fine after a little surgery. there are no bus accidents. a plane does not fall on her house, this week.
the thing about her sister is that at least she tells everyone she worries. she shares the details, she does it aloud. she does not keep it inside her heart. she does not have a heavy heart. because as she worries, she also prays. she thinks her sister should worry less and rely on the prayers more. but she loves her sister and so she allowes her sister this one little foible. this small thing, that really isn't so minute at times.
but she loves her sister, and she realises that so long as her sister is there to worry and fret and pray, then she feels safe.

sunday scribblings

been out of touch for a bit, this is late but the prompt sparked a thought (or two).

sunday scribblings "disconnected"

disconnected

she reached into her purse and fumbled around for her phone. the constant texts were polite, apologetic, and annoying at the same time. the turned the alerts off and dropped the phone back into her bag. looking around, she realised she was stood in the middle of the sidewalk, other pedestrians making a gully around her immovable figure. she slung the bag back over her shoulder and headed towards the coffee shop. hopefully the presence of her good friends would bring back some reality into her life. make her feel more connected to the rest of the world. ever since she shut the door, she needed them even more.

the view

jumbled jangled
flipped inside out
right side in
lines blurred
then veered to the left
and right
around the bend
never the same way twice
or once
peering from inside out
to the outside in