Let me write again, something soothing to loosen my tie while time tirelessly strips away at my age.
I am too young to be dramatic, too disconnected from humanity to receive its recognition, too black to escape through lighter shade.
I reminisce of old souls, I recall days before mine, however unsure whether memory or hallucinations.
Watch me dance, glimpse at my toes tipping and tapping to the rhythm bestowed by God.
Blink never, the pressure tempts me to misstep and this dance requires nothing less than perfection.
Those who dance know pain, however unsure whether this pain is reality or hallucinations.
