I dont want to be this way, its just how I am. I am cold, and dark. Scars hold me togather, they always make the roughest skin, so get hurt once, and you wont get hurt again. I used to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. Not praying, not doing anything but listening, the chirping of grass hoppers, the wind rustleing the leaves of the trees, the soft noise of the voices on my television, the yelling of my mother at my sister, my sister's retort, my mother crying. I would lay there, and feel like the world was slipping, like I was a boat in the ocean, drifting and floating with the current, powerless against it. I would lay awake for hours in the dark of my room. I used to be afraid of the dark, but now it had become my home, no one would see me cry from its depths, or see my blood, it cushioned me, embraced me. Light had always been acusitory, as if pointing out all my flaws, it made me trasparent, showed my scars to the world to see, to judge. There was no comfort in that.
I was risky, because I had nothing to loose. No life, no liberty to be taken from me. My heart no longer raced in my chest, it sunk, it disapeared. I used to think the most important organ in the human body was the heart. Now, I have changed my mind, I think its the Liver. It always filters out the toxins that run in my veins, though it never seems to do a good enough job. My flaws, the thousands of them, broke me, into tiny pieces that did not resemble a human. They broke the good and the bad, but sometimes, I would get a glance of my face in the mirror, and saw some sort of beauty, in my eyes, though they had turned dull blue, and cold, there was some beauty to it, some reverance to it. Like I had survived something.
