Wednesday, 13 January 2010

A Piece of Me

Book reviews to come very very soon. :D ... And thank you all for your wonderful birthday wishes. I had a wonderful (drunken) time. ;-) 2010 is starting out really well for me.

In the meantime, I was sorting through my old university coursework and came across this piece I submitted for my Creative Writing modules. I got a good response from my lecturer and my friends at the time but, now that I read back, I'm not sure what to make of it. hehe.

So, I'm going to post it and see what you guys think.


Crystal clear water fills the empty tub. My palm touches the surface, letting the heat send tingles through to my fingertips, and I watch as the bubbles dance around my skin, performing their own ballet to the beat of the waterdrops.

I leave behind a trail of musty clothes and dip my toes into the warm liquid, setting aside all my usual inhibitions about who I think I am, letting my naked body be free. I am one with the water; it consumes every grimy piece of dirt that attaches itself and slides along my skin with more tenderness than any man has ever shown to me.

All I have to do is finger the blade of an old razor to remind myself why I’m still alive. The sting of the rusted metal against the dark fuzz that covers my leg is enough to make me flinch. Pain is not a comfort to me. Not like it used to be. I won’t let anything touch me. I am a closed book. My chapters have long since ended.

My head is under water and I hear the fierce pounding of my heart ringing in my ears. My lungs expand, waiting for their new breath of air to come, while I float like a foetus still holding on to the safe walls inside its mother. Here the world cannot abuse me. I cannot abuse myself. I am at peace with the notion that soon I will reawaken and find a new day to start afresh. I will forget about those that scorn at my deformities.

When I resurface, nobody is there. Now all I have to cling on to are the thick, white substances that shoot from clear bottles, absorbing themselves into my pores, creating softness that I never thought I’d find. I want to smell like a fresh posy and attract attention when I walk into a room. My gels and soaps work with me to improve my life, to create something spectacular inside.  


Amanda said...

The idea of a rusted blade makes me shudder.

Michelle said...

Honestly, I didn't know where you were going with it. You mentioned an old razor, and I thought this was going to be a not-so-happy creative writing piece. I'm glad you didn't go there.

I think there is something to be said about the "rebirth" of a bath, more so than a shower. I like it!

serendipity_viv said...

And you stopped writing for what reason?????

Get back on the wagon and write more!

Ceri said...

Amanda - Yeah, I guess at the time I wrote this I was suffering from major depression and those kind of images were a comfort.

Michelle - Yeah, when I wrote it I was going through a horrible stage in my depression and always had this idea that a bath would cleanse me and I could scrub away all of the negativity inside me.

Vivienne - Haha. Thanks hun. That really means a lot. I guess I'm a little out of practice now but I think I may start getting back into it this year. :D

The Bookworm said...

I like it.
Especially 'I won’t let anything touch me. I am a closed book. My chapters have long since ended.'
I agree with Viv, you should keep writing.