She sits, awkwardly surrounding by the dance of life. Engulphed in its presence, the emotions run through her at a speed far greater than understood by the human mind. She desperately tries to retreave them from the surrounding air, picking one by one at the words floating around her.
Love.
Friends. Family. More than friends? She is hugged by the words of affection that continuously speak out from the mouths of her peers. Her companions. She is suffocated by the falsness of the others. The family. The friends that were never truly friends at all. They attack her. She bleeds from their hurt. The vulnerability that she never allowed to decieve her cuts through her core. The pain flows in.
Hate.
For herself. For the wind that keeps rushing in through her wound, stinging her already broken soul. For others. For many others. The darkness. The light. The solitude of shade, half lit by the sun, but darkened by her fears.
Sunday, August 11, 2002