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champagne problems

by Anonymous | Score: 1600

the glass shatters. she doesn't flinch. she saw this coming. 

weariness spreads her thin. the shards on the floor reflect the morning sunshine that she does not feel. warmth streaming in from the yellow curtains she put up last week in a cleaning frenzy. yellow flowers. daises, or whatever. she feels dazed.

has been feeling dazed for weeks now. or maybe numb would be a better word. how would you describe this state of mind that is so fragmented? like the shards glittering on the wooden floor.

ever get the urge to lay down on the floor? it's why she has so many carpets around. colourful ones and monotoned ones, all of which she has laid upon with thoughts about how multifaceted us humans are. just like glass.

one we show our family, one we show to our friends. one we show to all the strangers we're desperately trying to impress. and of course, one for ourselves.

it just registered in her mind that she never did hear the glass shatter. too caught up in her head as she has always been. she supposed she should clean up but wait, wait till the champagne soaks her socks, wait till the bubbles fizzles away between the cracks of the floor. let it sit for awhile. 

then she stands. careful not to cut herself. cause she knows it will still hurt.

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