happy days of childhood
are they back?
am I saved?
God, she shouldn't have said that. It's become so true that the image hurts. Hurts my mind so much. Unable to think reasonably.
Now I'm but a doll under the sun, but a small piece in the big world. Now I'm nothing.
People around me talk and talk and talk, laugh and laugh and laugh. Laughing faces all around. In the middle there's a small piece called 'me'.
Am I going nowhere with talking to them? Speaking words they might possibly understand?
But they understand.
Memories of a happy childhood, present in the sunshine. What could make someone happier? What could let someone feel more alive?
Like a huge, yellow ball of laughter.
I am happy.
Yet my mind is pale, drying out, slowly dying.
The sun hurts my head.