Teardrops
Teardrops. A Teardrop, is the only thing I remember feeling. Though I must admit inwardly, was an indistinguishable, sludging, mixture of emotions.
Much like a painter assaulting his colors onto a canvas and once the colors dripped and bleed into one another an ugly blackness was all that left the center of view.
Maybe this blackened canvas’ impression on my mind is what caused this invading desperation. Black to me, was always symbolic. It was clear as black & white.
It paved its own of 2 roads,
2 ways,
2 streets.
It could be beautiful, yet others think it’s ugly. Consuming? Perhaps that’s what it was. Maybe that’s why. It felt as if it overcame me in that moment; dizziness- like my head was on a buoy, heaviness on my eyes- something-like-a-weight. That was the last thing I remember.
That was visible to me.
As, my eyes shut - Blackness.
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CRYING BLACK TEARS IS UPDATING ON THURSDAYS.
See you behind the page! -Jazzy<3
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