Overlooked

January 19, 2009
By Meagan Roppo, Sewickley, PA

Infinite colors breathe on each other to outline images that seem too familiar, too unwanted. The winds are carrying me on their down drafts to a destination that isn't on the map. Sounds that aren't heard by the ears are communicated throughout my body, disconnecting my soul. Music for the mind.

Life as I know it is parallel to a professional piano player performing a piece . Precise, but not quite perfect. Very close to it, however. Every requirement is met. My loss is now only a small factor in my life. Or at least, it was supposed to be...until the visions swept in only a few moments ago to tear apart my sanctuary that I've recently taken to.
Madness is my past. My past is madness. Staring out my window and seeing the outside world which I cannot attend to whenever I feel creates an urge in my arm muscles to reach out and break the dusty glass. Attempting it is desperation. The longer I stare, the stronger electricity of yearning to return to it.
Learning to step away from the window was my first step of blocking it out of my mind. Other's days are my eternities. Years of practice, and I finally pulled the string of the blinds. Yanked. I yanked the blinds, because by then I had reached a state of denial and dislike. Shutting out the former world that I was in love with is complicated. I'm sure no one would disagree.
Tears. A parade of them. A minute bleeds into another. Time is at the starting line of becoming meaningless.
Once the pain has been driven from my body through my wet eyes, my hand strikes my face in an attempt to kill the droplets that hold memories. How an entire memory can fit in one tear, I had no knowledge. All I knew was that I was physically flushing my soul.
Now that my heart has exhausted itself of the past, it wants to move.
I turn around.
A door.
How had I missed that earlier?
Perhaps my nightmares were suffocating my vision, my broken heart was obscuring

other passages.
My shaking hands covered the surface of the door like liquid. They slid toward the knob, slowly shifting the lock.

Without looking back at the detention of the world outside the window, I entered the limitless opportunities of the door.

The author's comments:
I'm hoping the reader, no matter what they are going through, realizes that there is always another way out of a situation. It isn't always clear to see, especially if you don't want to, but it is there and there are certain steps that it takes to get there.

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This article has 3 comments.


on May. 25 2009 at 4:52 pm
project827 GOLD, Portage, Michigan
13 articles 1 photo 91 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Real Revolution Starts At Learning, If You're Not Angry, Then You Are Not Paying Attention" - Tim McIlrath

I cannot say how much I liked this piece. keep it up and, like, yeah. two thumbs up.

Craig5699 said...
on Feb. 21 2009 at 5:41 am
What an excellent piece of writing. I've been in that "place" many times. You are indeed an extremely talented writer, and I look forward to reading more from you.

Antyrocks said...
on Feb. 20 2009 at 11:39 am
As I read this, I feel the emotions that are being described. I feel like I've been there before.


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