I live, I respire, I function… These are possessions one doesn’t think twice of… But there is desolation where you were erstwhile.  I am consumed by it – Whole and soul.  Lines blur, melting, altering, folding… and now – I am it, and it is me. Yet ever so often, I am jolted from this half-life, and I call out. Words run their usual sequence, but someplace else along its’ way, the voice withers… and I’m back where I commenced… breathing my half-truths… finding ease in the twisted… alone – this heart song plays on unheeded… I know they see the prism and the spectral colors… they think I have it all. and I smile… holding back my streams – they’d wash away all that color they love so much…  I laugh a thousand tears, softly, in the silence that is still mine. And I learn to shelter my wounds from your half-truth. All that is felt is no longer ours; but mine… just mine. And gradually – I begin to comprehend – Fudging curve ***** doesn’t come easy. Not even in my wildest dreams…