I am suspicious of boys who don’t make me wary. No wonder I unsettle people. Honesty is so very odd to discover here in the world. There is a secret play and you know all the lines. The ones that surprise me. I am concerned. You’re breaking unwritten rules though I knew you’d ask me to join you for dinner.
The rain again. I want to turn the volume up of the drops hitting pavement. Every hit should crash louder than movie disasters. I want my colours to bleed and run when the water hits me. Trails of jeweltones and pale pink skin dripping off of me to run down the dirty gutter and leave sparkles behind. Do you want to know? The colour drained from my plum hair to leave translucent silver behind. The colour of children and the dying. H2O shedding skin to leave slick red beneath. Muscle and bone, sinews moving over one another as I walk. Looking up to the sky, I think maybe the old fashioned gods could take my increasingly useless eyes. Fill these sockets with clear scrying water. See truth instead of blurry edges. Taking off my glasses to feel the soft wet I feel helpless. Without these panes, I cannot see. Panes, pains, the blind and useless girl, she looks emptily about the field and wants suddenly to cry. This green to everyone else is grass at her feet and she can’t even see how far away it is.