Sitting in stillness, staring blankly, and suddenly the weather turns ominously Grey and eerie and greyness smears the sky, the wind roars, and everything flares into chaos, and at that instant I begin to scream and scream and SCREAM and hot liquid just smears across my face and i pull at my hair and kick the wall and shatter the glass shatter it over and over again so i don't have to look at this damned reflection anymore, and today was the worst day, the sun began so shiney, but everyone's moods predicted the gloomy sheets of rain falling for a translucent sky (oh yeah, it's because heaven's up there I guess). And when people you care about are so false and cold and heartless and stomp on you like an old rug. They like to see you bleed. They like the warm red ooze dripping from your eyes. They want to see you fall flat on your face, knock your teeth out, and THEN swallow a mouth full of mud. They're just THAT wonderful. Everything in this nature relates the days turn suddenly sour just as relationships do, and all that's left is for you to throw away the pit, the core, the seeds (how Ironic is that?) And then there's this empty place where you just have to bury your head in your hands while you stand in the bathroom alone, and just remember how to breathe so you won't spot again. Allowing yourself to be put in your place and training yourself you're not worth anything, what's the point in trying. And I hate this body most of the time, i won't lie. It's my shadow and my IT and I love to sing softly to myself when I feel like crying, it doesn't take the pain away, but it puts it somewhere, it dispels it into the air, only to be breathed back in again between verses; my song keeps going. My life stretches before me a million miles long and these Grey skies will recede and eventually turn black and crimson and pink and blue and yellowy. Ill see someone who looks like me touch everything in sight and giggle at the sun, and roll in the grass, and gaze at a purple shiny rock, and play in the sand. And today won't matter, maybe. At least I'm not sitting on the beach with my legs stretched out, the sun on my back, counting tiny grains of sand as I place them into a sand pale, humming a gospel song I don't even know.,, Or maybe I am.
