Sketches by Alondra B. (page

Sketches

By Alondra B.

Made up of sketches, made up of lines. Drawing and carving the lost puzzle pieces as best as I can. There was an aching that I felt inside, as a pillar of me had crumbled to the ground. The sincere yet cruel touch of an epiphany; realization dawned upon me. I witnessed a part of me wither. Gloomier skies…did I even know who I was? An organism made up of flesh and bones. Pain was born for all the things I couldn ’t become. Living with this weight forevermore. Because I’ ve grown up in a world where marks are tattooed on my skin. Worries I should not fear, a pair of numbers on a sheet, opening up paths for law degrees and medical school entries; all of it is quite useless when I’ m a stranger to myself. I could read, write and paint, but the screams in my head would be echoing so loudly, as wasted potential flowed out of my veins: bleeding myself dry till inner death. I had abandoned the wheel in a treacherous path, having no destination or sense of direction—this was the way to a perfect car wreck. I thought:

“My crumbled bones shall finally provide shade for my inconsolable soul. ”