here’s a bit of a poem I’ve been tossing around–it’s somewhat of a vignette.
Adeline.
The silence of her actions is counteracting the jumbled chaos in her mind.
Adeline, the daughter of a well to do business man is
finally feeling the repercussions of the silence drug.
Many have said, the said haven’t tried, its apples for apples
An eye for an eye.
Adeline sits.
Adeline waits.
Waits for the numbness to die and the colors to come alive.
The rugged wood panels that line the walls seem as if they are the lining of her final resting place. The small room in which she lived would be her coffin.
Visions shattered, inspiration ravaged- not all ideas fit in your box.
Adeline imagines the warm leather book that kept the time and dates
- nothing can stunt her, especially not time.
The masses have cut the nerves- defeated her innards.
The cookie cutter has severed her limbs.
Adeline’s home is now in her head.
© by. ben schwartzhoff
