WHAT MATTERS?

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Her aureate eyes reflected her desire,

her sadness,

her pain.  

The outshining of stars enveloped the only thing she had,

the only protection, 

her immunity.

Swallowing every vital source,

Roaring its heart out, 

Dancing its way around, 

Transforming wood into a powder-like substance,

Blanketing the sombre sky,

Illuminating with hot ribbons of light. 

She stood hands grasping. 

Tears almost nurtured her soft face, 

Washing away her inner clutter,

Keeping her soul alive in this furnace of suffering. 

Flames plagued every corner of her mind, 

Leading her to only reminisce about one thing. 

Memories. 

Her small feet rippling against the cold water, 

The coiling of wrinkled fingers around her own, 

The calming aroma of mother’s loaf in the hot oven, 

The blowing of 16th birthday candles,

The sweet smile plastering on his face, 

The welcoming scent of her morning mocha,

The thrilling rides every Easter, 

The everlasting laughs on a Saturday night, 

Especially his.

Cornering her dry lips, 

The best kind of medicine radiating through her thick skin. 

Even the worst of the worst, 

Every camera flash moment, 

Still made her who she is today. 

They are the ones that ultimately cherish her,

keeping individuals alive in this dystopia.

Sweeping off the ashy-like powder of the frame with her bare hands,

The wooden border framing their souls, 

His face pressing against hers.

His cotton, cable knitted sweater,

soft lips,

Rosy cheeks.

Feeling his comforting hands caressing her face. 

But, 

The agonising pain thrashing her back, 

The ‘fail’ on her year 12 science exam, 

The steel bullet striking his head,

The disappointment plastering on her face, 

The puddles of blood dripping on her hands,

The agonising cries echoing through the deep hallway,

The last wave to her mother. 

The bittersweet atmosphere of nostalgia, 

The uneasy churning in her stomach emulsifying with contrasting images. 

The tighter she clinged onto them, the deeper it would cut.

Today begun with a new chapter, 

A new milestone leading her to eternal bliss. 

The golden thread of life, 

Bringing new fire and fuel into the stove, 

Igniting an eternal flame speaking of magic and mystery, 

Inviting smiles and frowns into every moment, every conversation.

Accepting the good and the evil from this perpetual photo album, strengthened, reinforced, cemented her mentality. 

Allowing the positive ones to nourish and grow, 

Treasuring the mental photos of her loved ones. 

Just one single experience forever transforming her life.With photographic memory.

 

These stories were written in our Factory Feedback program, which was created with, and generously supported by, the Dusseldorp Forum.