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08.11.08

I guess the first thing that happens when I wake up is I taste the weather. I taste it in my hair, on my fingertips and across my stomach. I digest it and feel my mood. The world is painful you know. Like running down a rocky hill. The rocks twisting your ankles and grazing your skin. God forbid that you should fall. Perhaps to a happy ending. Perhaps not.

The sky shakes my mind. Tells me to be a better person. I've always failed to comply. Maybe that's why my skin is stained with bland memories. Gray turned to brown. Drifting smoothness.

The clouds scream at me with their light silence. That peace I've never achieved. Maybe that's why my pupils are too dilated and I feel that instant stab as the clouds let the light skitter through playfully. And that light is the very essence of my pain. That I am not. That I will never be. That which escapes my heart and any realm of comprehension.

And that is another today and probably another tomorrow. Definitely was the past forever yesterdays. I'm only a child you know. My brain leaks with potential. Potential for society. But no potential for life.

I've forgotten my name. My true name. The one the sky calls me. I've forgotten how to listen. And forgotten how to see, smell, feel or taste. My friends say I'm pretty and that boy says I'm beautiful but the sky knows I'm ugly. I'm ugly as hell.

I only care about being seen. Becoming something to recognize and to expect. A stain that you can't wash out. I starve myself by eating too much and I'm forever tired from sleeping all I want. I'm a mundane crinkle in the film of life.