Thursday, May 5, 2011

not mine, but i like it.

She finally accepted it was out of her hands. She gave up worrying. Just like that.
The weight still hung around her neck like an anchor. The fear of [rejection] still
clung to her like wet clothing. But she would not worry.
She pushed it to the side as if it was a curtain, only in the way.

She would not worry.

No comments:

Post a Comment