My colours are crossed. My life has changed.
A radical difference that the seams of my heart, shatter, and fall, and break again.
Horizons don't give me the same instance, and the ripples in the sand seem like dirty mud instead of commodities of gold.
The clouds are grey, and not white. The rain falls red, and the lightning stabs knifes.
Praying stays still, and faith runs further from me.
I lay on my back, toward the stars. Hands on my heart, legs crossed, fingers clenched and mouth motionless. Ears pulled back and eyebrows in frown. My nose smells nothing of such intensity. My fingertips are suffocating in anger. Drained in experience and inexperience.
I now feel how it does to be alone.
Left behind like a rose pedal on the floor.
Stepped on
Disrespected.
And Finally, Thrown Out.
