True colors hurt to see. Anguished lashings never ending. Echoing torment even when the eyes are closed vault doors. The heart will always draw the short straw. For what was once believed to be honey to the taste was in reality vinegar on the tongue and salt in gaping wounds.
Which color from the palette do I feel today? This Life of shades blended with...
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Inches away but miles apart, it’s what screams inside the soul that rips the fabric of the heart. Wide eyes glazed and legs that crawl with angst, the chains so stubborn and heavy hang. With all my will and prayers uttered I breath deep and brace for rolling waves of pain. Grab hold tight and embrace the eminent thoughts, for the man in the mirror
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