Ami-Chan
I adhere to my little place, my little ways
passed me so many different faces pass
I am transfixed at seeing them
A striking purple catches my eye,
then a daring scarlet
next a beaming yellow
again and again I see the unique brilliance of those around me
All at once I look down at myself
My eyes dull at the sight
gray
My lips twist my face up, every pore, every cell dancing. I pop out of bed and do a little prance to the closet. I decide to take my time picking out my new skin for the day, having woken up early. My toes bring me to the kitchen, my heels too busy flying high to contribute. As I start up making breakfast, I don't even glance at the coffee machine. For the first time in a long time, I don't need it.
This is not something new,
The twig twisting wildly from the steady branch above is merely a continuations for what should be
And the branch bending down toward me,
Merely a continuation of the tree
Yet I ponder, perhaps pointlessly, about just what this has to do with me.
I stare straight on
Glassy eyes just clear enough to see
I can’t not tear my eyes away from the sight
I refuse to tear my feet from the ground
I instead dig them in deeper
I clench my fists tightly around that little red string,
Thin and delicate,
Knowing very well how easily it could break
Knowing it is our only link
I stare as it slowly desintagrates
Shaking hands causing it to sway
Shaking knees causing me to sway with it
It means nothing, does nothing
But I still hold on till the very end
Till it disappears….and long after….
"I specifically ask-!", wailed the twisted, red face.
"Yes. I know.", came my signed response.
This isn't the first mistake, and not the last.
The difference between a white rose and a that of a black one is so small.
So how am I suppose to know without being told?
My eyes stay downcast and I hold in another sigh, "I'm sorry for the mistake." I would ask you to be more careful, but I know you shan't fail this time. You will be most specific, as you chose from which angle you will cut me down from next.
The institute is dreary in my little box
It is to feel nothing
To see nothing
To be nothing
My arms raise and demand release
I stretch and shove against the boundaries
Though my body argues with my mind
And my reason with my want
My eyes shake and cry with frustration at the blankness of my box
Now my legs join in the fight alongside my arms
My little box whines in protest
But I go on
My little box screams in anger and with a loud pop it's gone
My eyes explore the the new sight
My lungs grasp at the new air
I know not what this worlds institute is
But I know what it is not
It is not the one that was my box
Dull, steel pierces through the bright shining world
Screams and meaningless pleas bounce through empty halls
Imaginary creatures leave you thunderstruck
With their twisted and outrageous forms
In this place full of the softest mummerings and the sharpest pain
Fear is no where to be seen
Fear is only found with the sane
And for the patients and, yes even I
With the strings so tightly strung in my head,
Sane isn't quite the right adjective
Break down the iron and steal
Iron and steel
Iron and steel
Break down the iron and steal
You need not worry
Feel not the wounds it makes
Wounds it makes
Wounds it makes
Feel not the wounds it makes
You need not worry
Do not scream and cry
Scream and cry
Scream and cry
I am by your side
You need not worry
I struggle towards you, taking baby steps
1..2..3..
I'm crossing my fingers and hoping you don't grow tired of me
4..5..6..
We are a little closer, but I fear you are already sick
7..8..9..
I reach for your touch, will you reach for mine?
I watch from my place on the porch, as the sun rises, every inch of me covered with a blanket. I soak in the vivid sight of life till the slowly moving light inches up my face and blinds me with its brilliance.
"You're up early.", a groggy voice states from behind me before I feel his arms engulf me.
I laugh a little, lighting up with the distant horizon, "You are too."
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