My flesh makes its appearance while my soul stands still.
I can't pretend that this isn't dragging my heart openly through the streets of Goodwill.
Fire hydrants explode as I pass by to cool off my hott-headed reply's, well the reply's I wanna say, I crave to say but the intelligence my mom put in me curses at me to stop so I do.
A loss to someone may seam like a typical occurrence while to another makes the world darken and their eyes to pounce around condensation that the heart creates to heal.
Mine is more of a gray area with a half glass feel.
I couldn't change more if you turned me black and into a man, but you know what they say, " once you go black, you never go back," So I stick with my ever-so -evolving life maybe adding a tattoo here or there to the change or distract from the fact that even though I feel like a fifteen-year old girl, I am indeed nineteen and clean. What if life felt effortless? That trust came as easily as a 40-year-old to a striper HA. But really, I guess people would find it boring, there would be no gossip columns or page sixes, only pure happy, sappy news...GROSS. Fine slay me night and day but know that life can't be this heavy so I become undependable, well, my emotions do because it can't decide the weight it wants to carry.
8 days in counting.
-M
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