at first it was a drizzle, but now it’s a downpour. a deluge. beside me is a heartbroken girl. a wonderful girl who needs answers. inside of me there is another girl shouting for some relief. not from her, but for the past few days. she has been startled out of sleep. she rubs her eyes wearily and warily, staring reproachfully at the silent figure before her. she is me. the real me, apart from any facades or roles remotely attached to this physical body that she inhabits.
i hold grudges, and we all deserve answers for questions that have been sitting in layers of dust, used tissues, and angry, sorrowful music notes. sometimes we can’t gather up the strength or stretch beyond the limits of arm length, our tongues dried up with cotton and restricted by the confines of language, to form and voice the words that need to be said. here is a written toast in hopes that we will be able to tie the syllables together properly, and repeat them out loud with the appropriate tone and during the appropriate time or place.
