Hunger
“True love is born from understanding.”- Gautama Buddha
She wanted to be seen, she wanted to be felt.
She wanted to be heard, really heard. Like the heard of crisp silence echoing, clear--unmistakable.
It burns in her so hot that it bursts out in a torrent of words all in attempt to paint a picture.
To speak the truth. And yet, she feared all of these things.
She feared exposure--exposure that lead to the drought of love and broken hopes.
Time and time again.
Every moment she still beats at her heart to keep it from hardening so that it perpetually bleeds.
“I will not give up hope,” she cries, “I want to be seen.”
And then, there, at the back of her mind so softly, so weakly, “I want to be loved.”
That small voice is dying of hunger.
2016
Image Courtesy of: Photo 158069180 © Skypixel | Dreamstime.com
About the Creator
Vivian Clarke
Third-culture-kid-now-adult with a melancholic disposition trying to make sense of life, like anyone else.
I live for my daughter, cats, and coffee.
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