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Sometimes I feel as if I am walking along the thin and fragile line between hope and despair, and the defences I have put up in my mind threaten to give way, leaving me a weeping morass on a cold cement floor.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to abandon me, and take on some other skin, rip off the old one, and let the unreal me explode out of this shell I have carefully constructed over the years. With a scream that shall pierce the empty vessels of the heartless.
Sometimes I believe that there is really a wild side, and it is these times in which the barriers I have erected to protect my precepts threaten to crumble, and my heart wants to be to be torn out.
I once was able to see my emotions in terms of colour. I felt, and the walls dripped what I felt.
Anger was crimson.
Frustration was vermillion.
Despair the rust of clotted blood.
Red. Everywhere.
Red.
nads went at 22:56