All the secrets there inside you Annabel :: SOTD


Keep Art Alive :: Art by Loui Jover

Land of the lines,
of the years below still lies. 
You are the truth they denied. 
Run like the sea,
tangled there in porcelain. 
Under the stars you begin. “

Annabel sits in the windowsill, early morning, nothing but the scattered birdsong to be heard. The sleepless cacophony of cries and moaning in the night silenced, as her neighbors have all collapsed from the weight of emotions and the 2am rounds of medication. Annabel knows the trick, how to hide each pill in the softest spot of her right inside cheek, she knows, too, how many steps to count before she can spit them out, hiding them away under her mattress. She laughs at the thought of unseen bruising from the pills shape, an upside down telling of the Princess and the Pea.

Annabel rarely sleeps. She makes up stories that they might tag as delusions, trying to block out the screaming and the loneliness. Sometime she sees her made-up cast of characters in the corner of the room, dancing, spinning in circles with arms linked and painted on smiles.

One of them is an aging woman, folds of wrinkled skin and creases from laughter at the corner of each eye. She spins slowly, stopping now and then to frown sadly at Annabel, holding a shaking hand out to touch her, but never quite reaching.

There is a young boy with tousled hair and freckles across the bridge of his nose. He sneezes and then laughs, jumping high in the air, then turning and turning tell he falls dizzily to the ground.

Another is a tall, thin man with blue-green eyes that remind her of the Pacific Ocean. He arches an eyebrow and stares at her, a half-cocked grin just for her, as he whispers “you are mine, Annabel.”

She is no ones now. Abandon here in this room, steel bed frame, nondescript desk and chair, no sharp objects, no color, no life. Perhaps she is not here at all, not really anywhere, anymore.

Annabel :: Goldfrapp

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