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The Reality
There is little joy behind my mossy grey eyes, the shuttered windows to my sould. Inside my frame, a monster lies in wait, prepared to pounce at the next occasion it is offered. It haunts my dream and shadows my days, always floating in the recesses of my mind. Between sentences of flowery prose, expressions of true love and burning ambitions, my dark thoughts flutter, seemingly innocent ravens. The putrid stink of my corruption lingers in the air I breathe. My hardened heart lets precious few in, for fear of the rejection which I sense is inevitable. I shrink away from the human contact I so desperately need to save myself from seeing the pity in their eyes when they learn about my "problem. I need no pity, I want no help, I feel no pain. Or at least, that is what I tell them. In truth, I hurt.
My eyes have been cried dry, my scars still show, my love is still undying but my facade starts to crumble. As I remember the scarlet drops which speckled my arms, I wonder what happened to my pride. How did I sink so low as to resort to a blade for release? I had such self-control, I knew what I was doing with my life, where I was going, everything had been going my way. I cannot keep smiling eternally. I cannot continue getting up after someone has kicked me down. So keep staring right through me, keep avoiding my troubled gaze. Maybe, one day, I'll truly become transparent and no one will notice. And one day, when I have had enough, when I finally erupt, then you'll know all the pain I've been through, and perhaps then you'll finally understand what a difference some kind words or a smile could have made...
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