[4:21 p.m.] - [2008-06-09]
She tried to explain it once, but the words were thick and jumbled, tripping over her tongue in tangled jibberish. As she despairingly struggled to make sense of the mess, it was so easy to forget where she was heading. At that moment, she hated her tongue for failing to form the words that rang so true within.
It isn't until much later when she was laying in bed, fingertips idly tracing her bruises, that she thinks of fire.
It is just as impossible to describe. Never the same color, but constantly churning, blue--white--red--yellow--purple--green and back again. This is how she envisions her emotions, the ever-shifting of colors just beneath her skin as they swell and ebb with intensity.
recent entries:
like fire - 2008-06-09
liar by omission - 2008-06-05
these thoughts - 2008-06-04
look but don't touch - 2008-06-03
teeth, tongue and lips - 2008-04-23