| Does he ever get the girl? |
| Her life was becoming more and more like a ruined puzzle everyday. Her writing was going no where. There was no direction for it to go. She couldn't write anyway because her greatest supporter, friend and loved one had died no more than 3 months ago. he never told her goodbye when he killed himself in his basement all alone. he had felt safe there, now it was the last place he was alive. she never said goodbye. she blamed herself at first, but it lessened as the days drifted past. it had been his decision. now, sitting back in her old armchair, her bookcase across from her called to her. she looked over her vast collection of books letting her eyes pause on a book of Edgar Allen Poe. It had been one of his favorite books. she had read all his other ones because it made her feel closer to him, but she had missed this one. As she opened it, sitting on the chair with a sigh, a small sheet of paper fell out. she stared at it, then picked it up and read it. "Does he ever get the girl?" Simple message. "I'm okay not." Her eyes filled with tears, yet she stopped suddenly and jumped up to her writing desk scribbling quickly. the hours crept by and she was still writing. soon, well, days later, her book was done. In the dedication there was his name with the words "I'm okay too." And he did get the girl. ~This Ruined Puzzle~ This ruined puzzle is beige with the pieces all face down so the placing goes slowly. The pictures of anything other than it's meant to be. But the hours they creep, the patterns repeat. Don't be concerned, you know I'll be fine on my own. I never said "Don't go." I've written a note. It's pressed between pages that you've marked to find your way back. It says: "Does he ever get the girl?" But what if the pages stay pressed, the chapters unfinished The stories too dull to unfold? Does he ever get the girl? This basement's a coffin, I'm buried alive. I'll die in here just to be safe. I'll die in here just to be safe. 'Cause you're gone I get nothing and you're off with barely a sigh. I never said "Good-bye." I've written a note, it's pressed between pages that you've marked to find your way back. It says: "Does he ever get the girl?" But I've hidden a note, it's pressed between pages that you'll read if your so inclined "Does he ever get the girl?" But the hours they creep, the patterns repeat. Don't be concerned, you know I'll be fine on my own. I never said "Don't go." Does he ever get the girl? |
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