Sometimes one wakes up in the morning looking at Grey. The eyes have turned monochromatic. The cold feeling stays, wrapping itself around like tendrils of ice, the fiercest rubbing cannot thaw. I am Kay, and the mirror pieces are in my heart.
The Snow Queen in her glorious magnificence is my best friend. And I celebrate “this is my December.”
Sometimes the threads of Lonliness wave in the wind like gossamer threads looking for an open,warm heart to connect to. The people walk past each other looking straight through. They see you and yet they don’t. Closed faces, hurried paces, people running their measured races. The hungry man looks for Hope, the addict for dope. I am Oliver Twist and the hunger is in my heart. Fagin with his nimble hands and many pockets is my best friend. And I celebrate “where the streets have no name”.
Sometimes the body shakes from within. The breath chokes and stops. The blood has been boiling for too long. The repressed voice strains to break free. Flashbacks of childhood on you, catharsis is unleashed. The victim is the inflictor, history repeats but you cannot see. I am Dr Jekyll and the medicine is in my veins. Hyde with his cruel visage is my best friend. And I celebrate “ a whiter shade of pale”.
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