feb 17
Eyes, they say are the window to the soul, but what about the deep purple bags surrounding them? People can’t wear their souls on their sleeve, or even in their eyes. A beautiful soul can be corrupted by the shell of body that forces them to shrink away inside of themselves. Your flaws make you beautiful, the tv screen tells me. I’m not sure how that works anymore.
Wouldn’t you love to run away? Not really but just to jump out of your own prickly skin and emmerse yourself in someone else.Throw off all of your ugly inhibitions and toss them up for those carless enough to catch them.Leave a trail of your regretful tears just so you could steer clear of your past mistakes.Tear off your glittering fake smile and the self-righteousness you wear like a sweater.You’d be naked of your past and scared of your future like a newborn child and no where to go but up or down.You’d be the morning’s clean blue sky waiting to be filled with clouds or maybe to be filled with nothing.
Words are like the wind coming through your windows and brushing along your curtains. They come to you in an unexpected moment and make your world pause, but then the words escape the confinement of your brain and you might never feel them again. They dance around the vast spaces of your hollow body and you try to make your feelings come back in a language that makes sense to you, but sometimes those words you long after will come back and sound silly. They just aren’t the same.
