On the suraface, I am calm, placid, content, maybe even absolutely still...but on the inside I am running...on a long empty road, all my own, at the speed of thought or maybe more...and I've run past you a million times, in the time it takes us to smile at each other, say hello.
You think black is my favourite colour, with all its mystery, all its intrigue, all its potential to conceal...for I am, in your eyes, an embodiment of these very things.
...But, my favourite colour is actually yellow, the colour of a fresh summer breeze on a balmy day, the colour of instant lemonade.
You seek and find, immense strength in me, the ability to bear, to withstand, to face...insurmountably tragic circumstances.To you, I could face anything,unafraid and live to tell the tale.
...the truth is, I cannot close my eyes in complete darkness, or resist holding my breath before turning blind corners.
You think I am prose...controlled, sober, measured...I am in fact, free-verse, poetry running unbridled, too mercurial, too capricious to be contained by the pages of your book...
It rocks to be me.
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2 comments:
Using the "..." in between incomplete sentences is a quintessence of too many 'SMS'es. :)
hehe
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