reshichan

Watery Without. Soft, sporadic rain delights on a day. Each drop to a head, each head is relieved. The languorous butterfly kisses become blows of beastly strength. Anger manifests itself as watery rivulets, Liquid, chill and stinging. We retreat to our own created world. Without, the world rages, unwittingly. Created deserts have become an ocean, momentarily. The barrier that keeps apart without and within is breakable. Without wants to be within, with us. As we escape, One senses the watery, wrathful Without Is also Within, a part of a wider world. But One can’t see for the water obscures our vision. Without hammers down

Cold for so long, she forgets the comfort of small things, that takes little effort but meant the world to her becayse free as sge usm there is a part of her that sees only the happy things. Locked away are her toys and with them, her optimism. She's tainted by boys and their weak promises which she knows better than to hope that they'll be kept, and yet that feathered thing chokes her, she can't escape it.

Jump We started this, & I am cold to you. I didn’t know I would be. I told you, Like this I cannot love. You were happy with it. Jump with me, you say. We do. But as we fall together, You begin to notice, that I am distant. There is a part of me that does not smile. Not for you. I didn’t think I could be like this. I didn’t think you’d notice & if you did, I didn’t think you’d care. But you tell me, You’re cold. And I begin wonder if you do. Still we fall together But now I reach out to you, Still half in, yet now half out Of the cold, And I start to realize, You’re like that too.

Stranded At 3.08 in the morning, we talk. Finally. But it’s still not enough. I never asked for more because I was afraid to. I still am, so I don’t ask. You didn’t ask either. The only thing I asked of you was friendship, And your word to keep me safe. You failed, and I was too proud to ask for help. No, you failed me, and I didn’t trust you enough to ask. I’d been treated like shit all night, It’s all in good fun, just a joke. But then you abandoned me there. I wanted to hate you. I hated you. I couldn’t hate you. So I hated myself instead. Disgusted at myself for being so stupid. Used me

The Harlequin as Witness Of course I rarely spoke, but not because I was forbidden to do so. Shakespeare has a wonderful phrase as such that the Fool who is not, says "Speak less than though knowest… and thou shall have more." So, taking advice from a dead man who had little of his own original ideas, I speak minimally to learn and conquer. This is but the court of children; mere children who have formed their own hierarchy. Fortunately, they think it is I that is emotionally deformed. I speak little, dance most passionately and cry with greatest anguish even if I do not know the happenings around me. At least that is what they think. I