Try me on

You do a wonderful job of making me feel terrible. That look, those words, I am mesmerized. It is to the point where I have lost it. My control that is, the meaningful thing I loved for so long.
I will watch from my window, to see your moves and carefully place you in a neat enough position where I can come through. I fear the others, the ones who consider everything wrong, see I just want you.
How complicated is want? It is desire, it is moveable, it is free, and common. I have rights and I know when to stop. I see you, someone lonely, careless, free from others, and completely willing to be insane.
Try me on. Try on my skin; tell me what it feels like.

Aha, nice try!

As the days go by I try to remember the sweet scents and wonderful days I spent in my unselfish nature.Now, I have completely misused the word "unselfish" and have done an opposite job when reality kicks me in the head.

It all happened one day, in the smelliest, horrific, most discouraging place you would call a restaurant.I, in my own magical nature, had not noticed the reason for the remark from my coworker.

'You are selfish', she went on. I tried not looking directly into her eyes because it might cause her to have to loosen her tie, or walk out in rage. See, I am not pro rage it makes me hungry.

Fine, I will look inside my heart and figure out what went wrong. Argh, what a terribly, unnoticeable mistake I made.I think I forgot her birthday.Honestly, selfish fits me. It has a certain ring to it.

What Stone Contains

In my short years of living, things I have discovered, I have recovered nothing. I am the victim of an unknown crime, and the accused has left me to be mournful. Days seem longer than I had expected, so I continue to mourn the death of myself. Personally, I discovered a missing piece months ago, the solid foundation that kept me sober, for nothing accompanies me, or has kept me stable. My old home, which was darker than here, had stood solid as certain aspects tore me away from its bitter comforting remains.

Eventually I turn to stone, as the final victory comes by passing me aside in the street.
Noticing nothing but the stillness of my being, the very essence that kept a world from falling is gone. Distance has played his role on me, saying things I did not understand and of course, pretending to be so close. I lay destitute on the verge of desertion. Such a crime to humanity that would be bought and paid for, or so it seemed at the time, though I was greeted by the shadows and made to feel guilty.

Time cannot take the place of something so dear, as the world did conquer my spirit devastatingly. Do you know what it is like to resemble a stone, cold and without comfort? Such a delinquent action should hide away, where neither creature nor human could understand its very presence. Past has no place in future, as time grows easily war-torn and helpless to the seeming happiness that is nothing other than discrimination of real freedom.

Glass shatters with time, and will be broken easily without help from reality. Yet, stone has stayed solid through rain and thunder, and the crash of the many tides. Glass shatters so quickly, with a swift movement it is gone. Stone stands strong, though no human could consider themselves as stone, solid and unbreakable, though I was as such, cold and lifeless, gray and unfeeling. That, my own purpose, and is permanent. I do not expand, nor do I mold with my surroundings. The only direction I move is not to move. Without further instruction, placing a rather awkward silence and still hurting from the reality that I am stone, and the world I live in, is nothing but glass.