Hole of Memories

this is sort of a very abridged autobiography of my life. at least one tangent of it.

Hole of Memories

Once there was a girl.

She’d been hurt many times before.

Betrayed from angles not grasped by man.

She had no objections with being alone,

She was safe.

Do not misunderstand me.

She did care for people.

Friends, family,

They were wonderful company.

Although she always felt like something was missing.

Her body felt oddly light.

She felt as though she was watching her life from above,

Critiquing every move.

She couldn’t decide if the feeling was good or bad,

So she put it aside.

When she turned 16 she started to meet a lot of new people,

Who were kind to her.

They became some of her best friends.

But still there was this hole hiding somewhere deep inside.

One day she went to look for the hole but came back with nothing but blood,

Under her nails, splattered in her hair.

She was discouraged by this.

This excess of blood and shortage of knowledge.

This girl liked to know what was going on at every moment.

Everywhere.

With everyone.

And when she couldn’t figure her self out,

She got scared.

Something didn’t fit.

Right.

Inside her.

So she sat alone.

Crying,

Not knowing why.

Not caring.

Just alone.

Then she realized.

That was why she was empty.

2 years later a boy came.

He had brown hair.

And eyes the color of ripe blueberries.

He was tall and gangly, and perfect.

And so now they sit.

Everyday, working to fill in the hole inside her.

Everyday it gets a little shallower.

Soon it will be nothing but a memory.

And together they lived.

Really lived.

And together they loved.

I don’t need to tell you that they really loved.

That you can figure out for yourself.

 

Author's Note

Do you understand the story line at all?
Too sappy?