I sit in my little black corner watching the world run it's course with ease. Through the thin glass separating me from this lie I see the way everything happens in a distance. I find joy in little children exploring the possibilities and letting their imagination control the universe where endless creations can be captured. I find curiosity to those who look at aspects differently for they are never correct but their colorful mind always busy sparks questions in which no one can tell the answers. And I find sadness in watching the people of the world prance around in completely obliviousness to the little souls urging for the light but held to the shadows. Every blip of shadows are never noticed by the faces rushing by. Screaming and fighting they struggle against the grey cloak with holding them from freedom as if they will never fly again. For myself am only an observer of this so called life in which I will never be noticed. I wish to take away their struggle and fear only to be replaced by fascinating hues of a bright summers day or of a silver rainy night. Yet I can do nothing but sit here In my little black corner watching the world slowly fade away with ease behind this thin glass separating me from the truth that may come to be.

Death comes when all is right and love is strongest. No one is ready and no one knows how or why. So much anger is passed when the final judgement comes and regret is the painful killer that tears you apart and makes you crawl under the biggest rock. Your souls retreats to the deepest cave for you question what has been done and what you should do next. Paralyzed and unwanted for anything but time and memories. I feel nothing but this love that is unconditional and undying, Immortality my darlings. It brings comfort in those times when all is right and love is the strongest.

If perfection had a synonym, it would be a simple word with three simple letters. Him. Him with the eyes that could cut your soul in half with a quick glance. The one that pulls your heart in so many different directions. The way he makes you that person you have always wanted to be. He tells you his secrets that were tried so hard to be kept quiet. Oh the amount of goals he could achieve. Him with the crooked smile that makes your heart beat fast. The one who makes you mad but still gets you to laugh. The way he glows and shines as the light in your darkness. He comforts you in your time of need and won't leave your side till you order him away. Oh the amount of people he has wrapped around his finger without his knowledge. Him with the the sense of humor that makes you giggle like a school girl. The one that can make you smile even when you don't want to. The way he doesn't try to change you but instead embraces your distinct characteristics. He listens to the nonsense problems rambling in your brain and doesn't question you. Oh the endless talents he can perform with the humility of a deer.Yet his flaws are defined they only add a piece more to his perfection. If perfection had a definition, it would be one simple word, consisting of three simple letters. Him.

One. The warm touch of your hand meets mine and they fit together as if they were carved for this moment. Two. We step a little closer as we close this gap between our hearts and our bodies react as one. Three. Our eyes lock and gaze at each other as we see through a new pair of eyes as if we are meeting for the first time. Four. Across the way we glide together, never splitting and in perfect unison. Touch, of your hand on my waist, strong and sturdy to catch me when I fall. Step, we step apart as you turn me around and dip me low only the catch and hold me after. Lock, our souls lock together as this never ending moment keeps us living the fantasy that only few experience. Glide, we glide along for years to come and move swiftly by with much experience only learned from each other. Touch, step, lock, glide. Over and over till we become dizzy of our own movements. Touch, step, lock, glide. Touch grows soft and almost invisible. Step moves too fast to keep up and we make too many mistakes to get the rhythm back. Lock loosens and shatters as it falls. Glide sharpens as you fall away and I stumble to regain my balance. Touch disappears. Steps trips and off beat. Lock no longer there but an empty hole in it's place. Glide isn't smooth for I fall to the floor with a unmistakable blow. One. I feel for your touch but not finding one. Two. I take a step towards where your warmth used to fill the air. Three. I look for your gaze to lock with mine but don't find anything to hold on to. Four. I try to move as we once did and glide in circles but the movement is incomplete for there is nothing to fill the void. All I can do it close my eyes, go through the steps, and count to four.

Hanging from my fingertips thousands of feet up I feel my arms growing weak. With the ground of air under my feet and the slippery rock sliding under my fingertips I cry out for help. One last begging plead for rescue. You see me there but don't hear me. You laugh thinking it's another game and that I will recover as I have done countless times before. But this time I'm not playing a game. I need you to reach out and grab me, pull me to safety, But you just turn and walk away. I scream your name hoping to see you run back to save your damsel in distress. You do nothing of the nature except keep walking the opposite direction of where I fall. I tumble down faster than light, feeling my body hit every rock, every splinter of hope shooting through my heart. The last thing I hear before my vision fails me and my mind goes blank is words spoken in your voice. Such a waste.

Boom. I hear the crack of the wood shatter from across the way. Adrenaline rushes through me as I scramble to replace the fallen pebble. Boom. I hear the screams of the twigs snapping across from me. How much longer do I need to live in this hell till freedom? Who knew it would come at such high of a price? Boom. Another one fallen. How many more need to suffer before peace is made? And at what cost? At who's dispense? Surely the ones in charge don't know of these inhumane actions. For a great leader would never jeopardize this much for what other than a game. Boom

Minutes pass day by day but the same thing remains.  Inner demons tearing the seams of the soul wailing for a chance to be heard. Forced smiles, false laughs, masks painted by the banshees themselves unrecognizable to the viewers eye. The appearance from the eyes looks like summer but feels like the frost from the winter. The words sound of clarity from the rains of spring but represent a dryness from fall. Misalignment, dis-alignment, nothing of the sort to be let known for the fear of disappointment. Not for yourself but for others. Not to be seen for the unspoken truth of not being good enough for the world that took you under its wing against your will. Degraded, suppressed, all worth striped of meaning for those exact reasons that you hide your face in crowds so no one can see the Unbearing truth of reality. It gets worse and worse each day you hear the lie from his lips which only ends in more places to apply your makeup. The shame beats down on you like a blistering flame after its wrath has been contained for too long that you believe the spitting so called "truth" being fed to you on a shinning silver platter. How long do you have til those demons unravel the unseen beauty that nests somewhere unknown? I'm counting down each minute that passes during each day to the final place where your mask can be shed and your worth can be defined.