Ever see a window break, or glass shatter? More often than not, the jagged edges of glass that are left behind look at me invitingly, as if to beckon. Haven't you ever wanted to walk past the sharp obtuse lines that look so beautiful and welcoming. Just to rub some of your skin against it to see whether the blood that flows out leaves a trace of its absence in you, as it reaches out to colour the shards.
I remember trying once. Except I was asking the pieces of bottle I held if they atleast, would let me be a part of them. Holding the flat flawed but beautifully fragile fragments of a recently shattered bottle, my fingers trembled for a few minutes. It was strange feeling, nothing like they describe in bad books and good movies- there was no life flashing before my eyes moment or hit of adrenaline.
Anticipation. Fear. Apprehension. And then suddenly an inner calm. Suddenly everything else seemed stagnant and steady. The yelling outside stemmed, my breathing slowed. And all of a sudden my hand was relaxing. My fingers loosened. I was aware of my knuckles curling, as if holding my fingers straight and steady had become too much of a burden.
I remember feeling calm. When I looked down, I wasn't standing anymore. I seemed to be closer to the tiled floor of the bathroom. There was a deep rust coloured ink spreading through the crevices of the tiles. A serene calm spread through my spine, from my neck all the way down to my toes. Everything faded slowly, with the distant hum of outside mingling with my silence.
The first time I was ever so comfortable in my skin happened to be when I was flowing out of it.
I remember trying once. Except I was asking the pieces of bottle I held if they atleast, would let me be a part of them. Holding the flat flawed but beautifully fragile fragments of a recently shattered bottle, my fingers trembled for a few minutes. It was strange feeling, nothing like they describe in bad books and good movies- there was no life flashing before my eyes moment or hit of adrenaline.
Anticipation. Fear. Apprehension. And then suddenly an inner calm. Suddenly everything else seemed stagnant and steady. The yelling outside stemmed, my breathing slowed. And all of a sudden my hand was relaxing. My fingers loosened. I was aware of my knuckles curling, as if holding my fingers straight and steady had become too much of a burden.
I remember feeling calm. When I looked down, I wasn't standing anymore. I seemed to be closer to the tiled floor of the bathroom. There was a deep rust coloured ink spreading through the crevices of the tiles. A serene calm spread through my spine, from my neck all the way down to my toes. Everything faded slowly, with the distant hum of outside mingling with my silence.
The first time I was ever so comfortable in my skin happened to be when I was flowing out of it.
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