It seems that one day it came. Then one day it left. It seems that one day it was. Then one day it wasn't. I would love to pretend. But I feel. I felt. It seems that I was on cloud 9. It seems that life was good. There was no way for it to go sour. It went sour alright. Still hoping for skittles and Hershey's. Still hoping for a pot of gold. Hair filled with glitter. Red kitty heels. Follow the yellow brick road they say. Unto the yellow brick road I go. Step by step I go. They say one day, if I do it right, I will reach the end of the rainbow. I don't see a rainbow. Have faith they say. So I follow blindly. Life is good when you have faith. On to the yellow brick road I go. Left, right, left, right, left, right, ...
Somewhere along the way I dropped something. I can't remember what it is. I don't even remember the exact time. But for sure I dropped something. I wish I were told when I did. But who else can I blame but myself. In a world full with pretense that everything is okay, being the the bleeding pen doesn't hurt as bad. Spilling ink as if there was an unlimited source of ink. Spilling like there is no tomorrow. The color looks so beautiful as the sunlight hits the ink. It feels good to feel something other than pure bliss and the occasional frustration. It feels like I am alive. I have fallen off cloud nine only to be met by broken glass. I didn't see it coming. It hurts a little, maybe a lot. It felt like a sting. No, more like the reaper somehow took a piece of my heart. I whisper to myself, I will be okay. I have to be, because a broken heart could be my demise.
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