Heartland Hush - Cupid's Cabin # 1

I often feel their scrutiny upon me like a murmuration of birds; the wind swirling and shifting in the current of their gaze.

I admit it, I sometimes feel like a pebble in the stream of shadows that was tossed around by the currents of their judgment. Like the sharp edges of a broken glass scattered along this iron-cold path; the weight of their words bore down on me like heavy rain, making me soak with the disapproving thunder that hits like despair.

You know, I sometimes wonder: If pain were to be painted with the deepest red hue, why do I often see myself cry while feeling so blue?

Like curses of words tangled and used as arrows to shoot through the air, my heart pierced with their sharpness and precision cried blood like tainted holy water as it shone on top of my flaws, making my said imperfections for the world bare-boned to see.

But if you were to cut pain with sorrows and grief, what color would bleed?