Rainy days refreshes the pain. Clouds wring out tears of the downcast since their soul had run dry. I see a middle-aged woman sitting by the window in the coffee shop staring out at live ghosts, oh how blue her lips are, how muddied her vision is. She watches her past mistakes walk by with youthful faces, fingers intertwined, eyes glowing with life. Turning away, she was unable to bear the happiness of stranger’s. Clasping her hands around her piping hot mug of coffee, reveling in the burns on her identification; not even she knew who she was anymore. She’d been the other woman. How do I know, because I’m the daughter of the family she’d broken up. If she had any idea I was mere steps away, would she apologize? Probably not. She’s sitting over there alone carrying a conversation with the phantoms in her mind. Looks like her sins have finally caught up with her and driven her crazy. I think that’s a fitting punishment for the life that she stole from me. Let her live in madness, an Alice in Wonderland! May she never find the rabbit hole to righteousness.
© April 30,2016 privatethoughtsmadepublic