Thursday, February 5, 2009
Writing piece (FICTION)
Tiredness seeped through my body like never before. Not an ounce of strength was left within me, not even enough to think. Should I go to him? I can't. What would I say? How would I act? How could I look him in the face? He, the epitome of goodness and perfection, and I before him, confused and destroyed.
He calls my name. I turn my head away. He will not know my secrets. They will go down with me in my grave, whenever that will be. He will continue to love me; I need that from him.
I'm very tired.