quarta-feira, 9 de novembro de 2011

" Shattered "

… Uncontrollably she sobbed as she looked into his eyes, because she could tell what was in his soul, he was broken, utterly and completely broken, not like a doll that you patch if you thread through her raggedy fabric skin, or a toy where you can screw the wheels back on to make it run, he was more like a mirror, shattered into a million tiny shards by a stone that had been thrown at it, deliberate, instantaneous, obliterated, she could merely see her own reflection on the little bits that were his soul as she tried ever so hard to pick them up, to glue them back together, to find the fittings, to make it whole like a jigsaw puzzle where all the pieces had been jumbled and were too worn out to understand, but each time she tried, all she got was hurt, more and more cuts over the scars on her hands as she grabbed handfuls of shards, trying ever so frantically to save him, to bring him back … he wouldn’t move, you see? shattered as he was … far too damaged to be rebuilt … yet she always whispered in his ear … “it will be alright! I promise” ... ( Shattered by Alastair Black )

Sem comentários:

Enviar um comentário