Right shoulder, but the Devil is left handed.
Where could I find the strength to move myself forward? When all my aspirations were living all around me, inhabiting every body but my own, living a reality that has only ever been my dream. So it began, but never stopped. Every waking morning was another glistening reminder of all things...out of reach. I knew I was a spec of earth floating through a divine coral reef. It had a cruel way of hitting close to home, stealing the bodies of whom I wanted to place my love in, making it so very difficult not to despise them. It's the jealousy that will finally kill me. The oozing pettiness of my soul will eventually leak out into the open...then my image will truly be done for. I am the only thing in the way of my path to greatness. This torturous outlook is suicide, really. How can I justify my urge to destroy those who are greater than me? As if perhaps the only way to love something is to first destroy it. To have power over it, power is love...No, even I know how untrue that statement is. What a disease, to be so obsessed with maintaining a pure image, with manipulating goodhearted people into loving you, with hiding every ounce of evil you have in you...a plague of obsession; a need for control.
But I would settle being an oyster among clams, to be the one with the pearl would rule out any need or desire for carnage. So here I am, gently flowing through them. Them, and their colors. Pinks, violets, blues, greens!....and then they have the nerve, to suggest that I am no different or lesser, to so humiliatingly claim that I am ever so the same. Filthy liars they are, when we all see my black dirt interior next to their fluorescent bodies...And it's within moments like this that I wished to uproot them. I want to rip their bones from their fleshy confident selves. That wouldn't be enough...
I need them to fail, to mirror my ugly reflection, to know the feeling of crawling on hands and knees as all the bodies around you pranced upon their rugged legs. They prance among you, smile into you, as if if you were the most damned thing to ever live. They think they are of value because they grant you passing glances of pity and lies...they think they are the angels. All I ever wanted was to bear the white wings, I wanted to be the savior. But look what they have branded me with...
So how could you ask me to change this attitude? To move myself further, as I wish I could but I live in a circle of stranded & trapped. If Only I could erase them, but even granted that power I know I never would-because it was I, whom I truly wished, would die.
Krystalynn Baron