They go hand in hand, best friends,
Blood red maroon, mixed with pastel black.

Cotton candy pink and golden skin.

With each pounding beat of my heart, I feel as they'll burst out laughing.

Buried alive underneath my skin.

Hand in hand, they'll take over.

What happens then?

What happens when I loose my skin?

Paranoid and jealous.

Vengeance appeals to be just.

I am an embodiment of my fears.

A river frozen deep, a blanket of smooth ice.
Wide and forever in all directions.

I skate.

Wind whispering through the strands of my hair,
a sweet conversation.

Gliding,

I draw with the blades of my skates,
My skirt is flattered by the wind, how flirtatious.

Flying,

My feet begin to confuse the ice for air and start to float.

Free.

I feel the warmth of ice.

Weave it in,
who do you want to be today?

Freedom is deadly, in relation to one's identity.

Take a fabric, the color blue.
Wear it like the ocean is glue.
You were melancholy yesterday.

Take a fabric, the color red.
Wear it like the wildfire.
You will be spiteful today.

Take a fabric, the color green.
Wear it as if you were bred by greed.
You will be jealous tomorrow.

When will you run out of fabric and show your transparency?

We're all actors.
Lying is at the core of it.

Lying to mask the extremes of our emotional spectrum.
                   A mask can be whatever it is you chose.
The comedian? The artist? The leader?
                   You can be whatever it is you choose.  

"Be yourself."
My question is, which one?