In the Life of a Fool

I wrote this for my creative writing class about two years ago.

And her hands shake
As she writes the words that have been hiding in her soul
Her pain onto the paper as the ink slips from the pen
Slowly, silently
The beauty of the way it’s written
Conceals the fact that it’s eating her alive
Day after day she remains silent
Waiting for the night to fall
So she can hide in the shadows of the room
So she can pretend
That everything is and has been all right

When the light of morning shines
She opens her eyes to a puddle of blood on the floor
She glanced at her hands through her peripheral vision
They were not there
All she could see was the deteriorating skin leading up to her elbow
On the floor were the remains of what was once her arm
While maggots slowly ate away at what was left of her
She tried to scream but nothing would come out
It was an act that she could no longer control
She was pretending it was ok
While the maggots ate in the morning light…