Expressionless. Speechless. Emotionless.
That is all an illusion.
Hiding behind the shadows, finding comfort in the dark…
Where black, and blue, make perfect colours –
Expressions morph without restraint from anger to helplessness.
Words penned deep into the canvas as if carving out the heart of a wounded animal.
Tears surge like the rapids that wash a Man aground to scrape rock bottom.
That distance wasn’t unbridgeable.
Hesitance left words to shrivel and die.
Emotions, raw and untouched, wither with a sigh.
But when morning comes, all the madness hides,
Awaiting once again, for the fall of night.
When did introversion, moodiness and cynicism become such a crime? Just maybe, those who bothered to care would learn that the world could do with some silence and differences. Because not all emotions can be spoken and thoughts exist in the mind for good reason.