I love you
For being you
For stirring me
For never letting me down
Even in the darkest times
I can just imagine
Lying down in
Your arms
Looking at my future
In your eyes
You stir me
You like the taste
Of the raw honey
You get
Having undressed me
My soul
To the deepest cores
Of existential truths
In my heart
This is what I
Love bout you
The mornings
When I find
Myself chipped
Ashes flying
All round me
You see a loving
Patient of dermatitis in me.
My love is beyond
Just testosterone
It's adrenaline rush
Which makes me immerse
In you
My dear!!

It's 10:00 at night and it's been at least a half hour since you've eaten something. You make your way to the kitchen, empty bowl in hand. You place the bowl with the ***** dishes and the world slows down as you turn to see the small container with your name on it...

I hate it.

You grab a glass of juice and stare at the container down. As if the black that so neatly stamps your name could stare back. You open the kid proof cap and pour out half its contents into your dominant hand.

Just to feel the weight of death in you dominant hand. "Take 2 twice daily." They said.

The half orange, half yellow capsules still in my palm. Feeling the plastic-like coating I feel like I could crush in 2 seconds flat.

Freeze.

Time stops.

This, is when the protagonist eats as many pills as her body will allow, when she gives in, when she dies. This movie is almost over...

Nobody else is awake, it's just you and your handful of pills.

No.

This movie goes on, the protagonist will live.

You-- are not built on a mountain of clichés and stereotypical archetypes.

You.
Are.
Here.

And still alive!

You pour the pills back into the container, with 4 still left in you hand. You take 2 but you still feel like it's stuck in your throat, so you eat something small to force it down. Even though these pills are supposed to be take on an empty stomach...

You get a glass of water, and set that aside with the 2 remaining pills for tomorrow morning.

Now go to sleep, make sure this protagonist lives to take the Hollywood medication tomorrow.

Just between you and me, clowns…are extremely creepy. And whoever decided that clowns were funny and appropriate for children….. Just noooo.

But even though I hate clowns, I’ve seemed to become one. My red smile on a white coat of paint that is my face.

No…

I didn’t always look like this. I used to look like you. But now I have this, A red painted frown plastered on my face and guess what?!

It’s stuck there.

This is not the kind of make up you can just wash off, scrubbing the skin until it start to bleed and I can’t take the pain anymore.

And I don’t just mean the physical pain. I tried to paint another colour onto my skin, I tried to cover it up but I can’t. People still see it, they ask about it as if it bothers them more than it bothers me.

Yes! Of course! Eyes up here remember? Stop staring at it. Don’t ask me about it, it’s been there for too long…

My clown face can scare people. Do I look like a scary person to you? Is there a reason why children are afraid of me? There is still a person underneath this face paint, underneath this skin.

And people say clowns are supposed to be funny, no wonder people find my face so easy to laugh at.

Come on! Tell me it’s funny, TO MY FACE. I dare you, tell me exactly what it is, and why it’s so funny. I can laugh at it too you know, because I’m supposed to. I’m supposed to just laugh it off.

At the end of the day, I decided to visit the house of mirrors. I walk down the hallway mirrors on both sides and I stop in front of each one and stare at myself in the mirror.

I’m not happy with what I see in it. I’m not content with it, I am not okay with this image being forever, I don’t want this to be me forever.

So, one day, I will find a mirror that doesn’t show me like this, and it exist in people’s eyes, these mirrors exist in the people who see me the way I should see myself. So when I look into the eyes of my friends and family, I can see myself, and I don’t look like this.

One day, I’ll find a way to get this red frown off of my face one day I tell myself.

One day, I’ll stop being a clown…. And I’ll start being me again.