Claws of servitude

A tear of unkempt agony surfaces her eyeball. Brimming up, it spills the last pe(r)ice of sentiments that she withheld  all this while. She caresses her abandoned wounds like a mother does to her prodigal child. Woebegone but relieved. Seething but pleased. Overwhelmed but irrepressible.
She closes her eyes tight and traverses her mind over the itineraries of life that naively reside somewhere on the back of her head.
She promises a getaway to her devastated self. Arousing an uncompassionate demeanour of a vendetta , her fights are like a fugitive; waiting to be rescued but escaping the claws of servitude in a battle so personal.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

© Varina Berryl Rasquinha, 7verina.wordpress.com, 2015.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Varina Berryl Rasquinha and 7verina.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

%d bloggers like this: