Can you not see me? I'm in front of you stretching out my hand. My face looks cold and detached. My dry lips have cuts, as does my face. Once my face was filled with color, now it is drained to pure white. Tears drop from my eyes, they slither and freeze until it drops to the ground with a sound of a broken glass. Like ice crystals my eyelashes move frozen and white. I try to touch your hand, but you begin to draw back. What about me scarce you? What about me makes you want to scream? Could it be my liquid red eyes that bore into you with such intensity that it steals your soul? Or could it be the way my lips are curled that remind you that you are just the pray? You can't run because I touched you and now you know what I have felt. You are now frozen, trapped in damnation. Now you feel the cuts on your face while you see my face flush with colors. Now my tears escape with no pain. Now you get to feel what I went through. Next time you might want to think twice before reaching your hand towards me.
Next Time Think Twice
December 20, 2010