And there they were, but two little feet that remained strong enough to hold this body in all of its entirety. Just 90 degrees above them, a mirror, a repetitive image that sort of resemble myself, however this time I had found myself at faints fall. Behind my eyelids I could see the smoke begin to roll out beneath itself as the chemicals inside of my brain began to boil. Now trailing Covergirl, tears.... and without them... I would hesitate his lisp.
I lost my shade of excellence, the glow, the pearl essence that determines just exactly how I am feeling, thinking, dreaming, wanting, and longing for one persuasive conversation.
I have lost myself and every ounce of integrity that used to once reside inside of me. I found myself worn out, blistered, and weary. I can only remember reaching behind the mirror for what I found was a note... reminding me to refill.... like my script, I am vacant and left feeling foreign.
Gathering every ounce of strength my shallow breaths allow, I am again face to face with myself. My semi-permanent now a smear, I inhale so soundly that beneath me I can feel the devil begin to panic. I can not surrender, I can not break, nor will I provide a doubtless amazement for their sketch. Echoing now, the sound of a great pair of high heel black patent leather mary janes. And like every Aquarius.... my steps are patiently counted.
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