Snip, snip, snip.
Snip, snip, snip...
Cut, sow, take apart.
Cut... out together...
Only for it to come down.
A smile that could light even the darkest of nights, shut down, by words and actions from others.
Now to remove the sheepskin, the problem, from the picture.
Onto the next one.
Cut, cut, snip, snip,
Take apart, come down again.
Loneliness and unsure of what to do and who to trust.
To find another Shepard, who accepts me for who I am, and... I suppose, I...
Do I leech off of them?
I can't tell. I don't know. I don't know.
I thought I knew what was wrong but I don't know. I thought my problems were ones I made up in my mind but they weren't?
Am I really those things?
Should I really not be loved?
Did my wish come true? Am I a wall now? Or am I much, much worse?
I don't know. I don't know.
Everything is the same shade of grey. No longer do I see blacks and whites. It's all the same now.
Because I don't know which Sheepskin I bear to wear.
YOU ARE READING
Counting Sheep
Teen FictionOne sheep, two sheep, This is not helping at all. Three sheep, four- Someone kill me, I must snoop this low. Five sheep, six sheep, I feel tired, but the waters still flow. Seven sheep, eight she- It looks like the sheep hit a wall. I guess eight sh...
