All the Regrets
140 Words
A familiar feeling of longing grips me. She sits there, seemingly lifeles. I know better.
I wish her veil never lifts. For if it does, I don"t know if I"ll ever be able to meet her eyes.
As if to remind me of my plight, the dark black strokes of paint shine menacingly bright against the contrast of her hazel gown. Those metal bars, sheer miracles of an artistic hand and a paintbrush look darker than the deep scars of an unrequited love etched permanently in my heart. The rusty shackles now binding her wrists are less painful to watch than the expression under her veil.
"She was killing you!"
"But I was loving her!"
Even as I stare at the portrait of My Caged Love, I can swear that those are almost real tears rolling down her angry cheeks.
- Writer
