I have been surviving
the past few years,
counting on my hands,
the days taking me,
to the impending end.
I will not.
I will not sacrifice my hands anymore for something so sacrilegious.
I color my hands with Vermillion, rub the pages of my noteboo...
she had really droll features-- tree trunk eyes, matted mass of curls- a mundane brown no less
so unpleasant to look at twitching my heart-- her fists curled a permanent sneer on her face-- such an inutile piece of existence-- but one that approached me two nights ago
she knocked on my door trembling in her everyday clothes her lips blue from the cold her eyes a well of fear
she stood her ground with an expression so fierce, calculated, cold.
her limbs hanging limp on her sides
bravery fear hatred curiosity and
what pained me so much
was seeing the lies...
they clouded her head her spirit
it hung off her aura like a cold blanket seeking her warmth her innocence her meaningless existence-- it was slowly leaching her off all her goodness spurting where her heart once stayed-- with darkness;
she looked so unsure but clear so lame but strong so intelligent but foolish
she had no sense, no knowledge of how her legs were supported by lies
she thought she was a confident spirit but the lies were her crutch
she went with it everywhere when she could do that without the crutch
she was unashamedly insentient in the face of her crutch held too tightly to her chest
it fed on all things she thought she once knew
the crutch chased possibilities away killed hearts hardened gazes until she got dwarfed to the size of her lies
she was a lie
a huge lie
staring into my eyes
smiling that secretive smile of hers
she looked helpless like a beggar mysterious like my aunt perfect like a doll but imperfect like my soul
and I screamed--
I screamed into the abyss of unfulfilled eternities
for,
my realisation had
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