Prelude I.

A quiet girl when the tequila runs dry.

Her thoughts not easily read across the secret pages tucked between each smile line on her face. There is undiscovered beauty in the depth there, but I doubt she’s made the time to swim it. She catches every life raft thrown and only manages to stay afloat a little while before she’s violently tossed back into the black of the storm. The water from the waves runs down her face, leaving long streaks along the way. They stain the pages tucked between the smile lines she’s grown to hate.

A quiet girl when the tequila runs dry..

I wonder if she realizes how entrancing she is; if she knows who she is when the kids are gone and there is no man to love her. I wonder if she knows who she is when the silence is loud. I wonder if she realizes the extent of her own potential; or is she tethered to who and where she is right now.

A quiet girl when the tequila runs dry…

The oak colored fan blades spun above her head. Staring off into space, she drifted against her feelings of regret splashed with the Strong stench of tequila. Sighing heavily, she rolled over and tapped his shoulder before showing him the way out.