February 6, 2017
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Leaves spiral down lazily, making a rushing sound through the evergreens
And for a moment I think it’s raining
That the sky is crying
But then a drop hits my hand
And I realize I’m the one with red-rimmed eyes and a heavy heart,
Not the world


It’s like looking at a reflection in the water
Sometimes all appears clear
But look again and suddenly there are ripples or a strong undercurrent that is not visible on the surface
How I wish things were visible on the surface
No undercurrents or ripples
Just clarity
And an honest reflection
Like the one I see in your eyes now
Like I thought I had seen in his eyes then


But they do not see my pain
The world looks into my face
Only a glimpse
Looks into my tear filled eyes and
For an instant
Maybe there is empathy
Or sorrow
But then again
The tears only offer a skewed reflection
They stream down
Forever falling, forever silent
Never to disclose their undercurrents
Never baring the truth to the sea of bodies that swarm around and around


Hence, the world continues and I am left
Standing in the halo of a streetlight
Yet with enough interest that
I do not miss the accusing and belittling grimaces
Shot in my direction
As if to ask why the freak show even bothers to buy mascara
Even bothers to cry at all
Because in the end
They all turn away
And the undercurrent succeeds in flooding all cries for help to the floor

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