greatness

her mind was beautiful and intricate
like an underground tunnel with secret doors and passages
nobody knew how to figure her out; not even herself
of course the doctors could read her
she was an open book
as open as the door of the limousine
the one that would be arriving shortly
why dont you tell me five important things
about what, exactly?
anything. anything important.
her thoughts were floating in an aquarium; swimming on clouds
and then in no order she began
it is important that people know that they put bread into the toaster
(how many times had she heard "put some toast in the toaster"?)
it must be too many
go on
people should remember to laugh. it is music.
how desperately she had wanted to be a concert pianist in her youth
making music with her bare fingers
(laughing is much easier)
bacon is the best part of breakfast
her nostrils flared just thinking about the smell while her ears listened for the sizzling sound; too familiar
(it had been there all along in the crack of the fire)
two more
wanting to impress him with her depth, she paused to think about number four
she didn't even know this man
should she need to impress him?
and then it hit her like a wrecking ball through a building
it is hard to get to know someone if you're trying to impress them
what is it that draws the human race to impress each other?
even in the moment of death their last, dying breathe must be captivating
she didn't need to impress anybody anymore though the back of her mind was thinking about those golden gates she'd heard so much about
(would she be of enough greatness?)
after moments of silence she lifted her chin to the ceiling as if awknowledging a higher power
almost struggling, she managed to finally say
love yourself.
and in that very instant, she was of enough greatness.
(to be continued)