Can anybody hear me
Behind this glass that seals me
From ever, ever feeling
Anything at all?

I watch myself put on a tough front
Fake smiles are an easy stunt
They come so naturally now
Even though there's no feeling to them

My laughter peels out perfectly now
You can barely hear the strain in my voice
That any joy for me is a choice
To protect those around me
From ever discovering how I really feel
On the inside
Where I hide
All my pain

My only gain is that, you're all blissfully happy
Never knowing my suffering
Just continue laughing
And living
And I'll continue surviving

The first time we ever spoke,
I thought you were annoying.

I asked you what your favourite colour was.
You said
"White, because when thinking in terms of the light spectrum, it is the combination of all the colours. When you look at a white light, you are actually looking at colours that human eyes can't even process. You are looking right at them, and you can't see them, but they are still there."

I thought that was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

-
-
-

I was sent to a white palace when I found out what happened to you.
I searched for you in every windowless room.

-
-
-

Our romance was a
flash flood in the middle of a drought,
quenching my parched soil,
and then drowning all forms of life for miles around,
but it was over far too soon
and left me ravaged,
yet thirsty for more.

-
-
-

I took my new husband-to-be to the place where you and I met.
He didn't leave my side the entire time
and we listened to the music echoing around the mountains
while he said beautiful things that I would have died to hear you say
and he kissed me in front of everyone,
just like I used to dream that you would,
but you never did.



I realize now that you weren't my soul mate,
but believe me when I say that
I did love you.

-
-
-

I still don't know what to think when I look back on it.
My open and paranoid mind
can never draw definite conclusions
as to what truly happened.
Reality is subjective.

All I know is that this world is much more quiet than it used to be without your constant chatter that I thought was annoying when we first met,
and the only closure I will ever get
is accepting that part of who I once was died with you,
but an even larger part of who you were lives on within me.

-
-
-

My favourite colour is white now.

I have loved you.

Life is not about surviving,
It's about living.

Everyone is always talking to each other
One another
I sit in the darkest corner of a room
I want to be alone
Don't speak
Read me aloud
My lines are only etched by mortal hands
Waiting for a god to understand
I've unlocked the door
Unfastened the lock
Unhinged the chain
And waited
Everyone grows sadder everyday
In every way
I hide in whatever shadows
Content in brutal dark
I won't speak
I'll cry in silence
In black and white and strokes of pens
Waiting for what I understand is color
And love

"are we playing a game?"
she asks slyly...
looking out of the
corner of her eyes.

(he is not there)

"is this a game of hide and seek,
with no seek?"

(no answer)

she has never played this game,
if that's what it is.

all the silly men
say the
same
thing.

"no drama. no games."

but she thinks
the truth is that
they thrive on drama
they come alive in games.

is this what we do, now?
arrange people like
players on a chessboard?

check them
in and out
like books?

blindfold them,
spin them around,
then run away?

Again, she asks,
"is this a game?"

(silence)

many men scurry away
from confrontation
slip away in the night
to avoid truth

"if this is a game,
i think you are losing",
she says quietly.