And, the rainbows dance on the walls.
It happened, I swear it did.
If only for a moment, our souls met. The conversation was silent, it was only felt with the heart. Nonethless, I know it occured, because I watched it fall apart.
You, you rake, you self-proclaimed martyr. Don’t you do this to me. I hate you for it. Curious, sometimes I can barely differentiate between hate and love.
The air smothers me, tickling my throat like peacock plumes. My suffocation is beautiful, as is the loneliness- so obvious, I can hear it. This symphony of my masquerade- paper mache smiles and sequins.
Strange, the day we bothered to throw away the masks and shake the sequines from our eyes, it all fell apart. Was the reality to much to handle, are we weak? Was it so terrible to realize that others suffer just as much as ourselves? Our hope, already moon pale, faded even more. I am dizzy with anger. You make me lost, blind, powerless- groping in the dark. Our sadness growing, feeding off one another.
It will not win. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I refuse to let it drown us.
Promise me, my lovely, me darling, we will survive. We can help one another, I know we can. My anger makes me only more resolved and fortifies me resilience. I am comfortable knowing I will always have the power to quit, but, for now, I choose to live.