Her painting

I've been getting more into spoken word lately. So that's why it sort of sounds like spoken word..

The tabletop is like her face, smooth but disguised as plastic she isn't real
merely a painting on the wall wrapped in sheets of clear blue sky
She is inevitable like the rain on a winters day in Seattle, Washington, U.S.A
She never sleeps but is never awake her eyes are continuously open as though she were having a staring contest with night and day
You fell in love with her that day
You took her home with you that day
You stuck her in your car just like that never looked back and drove her home like she was meeting your parents for the first time
She made a home that day you stuck her on your wall beside your bed so you could pretend she was your wife
And you realize how cold and empty your life is like a woman whose husband never came home from the war, never got to see his babies first picture, first laugh, first smile
Never got to hear his babies first word and it was daddy
Never took her to her first day of school never built her a tree house in her favorite tree never shook her hand on graduation day
And you realize how alone you must be to hang up her picture as if she were your own when she isn't even real
Her eyes like a blank slate you take her down and open your own eyes
But find you can no longer see.

Reviews

[misha]

Amazing job on this, I really enjoyed reading it. It was so descritptive and I could see the story unfold infront of me. Great job

[Alicante lullaby]

i truely,truely love your stunning,unnerving,surreal style...its obscure and more beautiful then anything,i have come across in a long,long time..