The image that stares back at me is not me. This does not match my always optimistic mind.
The skin is blue, however improbable it seems. The lake of unshed tears is frozen, and refuses to provide a glance into its dark interiors. Callousness, continued distrust and malicious remarks draw a blank. There’s no disappointment with any one any more, just a deep apathy.
How can you expect positivity in return for all this? The darkness is equal on both sides – improbable blue with shades of burgundy, like dried blood stains on the soul.
The soul will return – scarless.
Creative Experiments and More 
Oh wow, such a profound write
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Thank you so much!
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You’re most welcome
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