Unbroken I wouldn't know how to describe a painting or a sonata, but I can tell someone how I feel, though they rarely know what I mean. Words fail me often, but nobody notices. They aren't listening anyway. One person knows me. When I talk to him I feel like a knife in a drawer, because my words have power. The possible damage would be irreparable. He and I are like a house falling apart. Our sidewalk is askew and our mailbox is missing. It is painted pink and yellow. We love it, it's unique. Last night I stomped my feet through the floorboards because I wanted to feel my toes in the earth. I pushed my hands through the ceiling and kicked down the walls. I know he wonders why I do things like that. I just wanted to let some air in. I said, "Look hon, now we can see the stars." He brushed off the debris and put....

Number Of Pages: 3

Number Of Words: 636

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