The Writer.

I can not see any more. I can not feel the hurt as it burns into my skin. The sorrow that wells with the hope of one more person crossing my path unaware of my existence. The pain grows, and moves inside of my soul. It is always there. Sometime, I can quiet the sounds. Sometimes I can pretend that they are not there. That I am here, and I am fine. That I am just like everyone else on the street. I am nameless, and faceless, and no one notices me, because I am the same as everyone else. I always arise, though. I always know that there is something not whole. Something that eats at me. So, I write. I write, and I write, and I write. I tell funny stories. Observations. Truths as they are, and as I wish for them to be. I play things over and over in my mind until they are perfect, as they should have been in life. I imagine myself as the heroine, and some nameless faceless man as the oracle who sees through it all and loves me with no limitations. I write all of these things, and then I finish. All these thoughts, emotions, hopes, now have a black and white scar to re-visit. They all have a part of my inside poured through my outside onto a canvas someone may see, or could go an eternity without ever knowing its existence. It should get better. It should. It does for seconds at a time. It feels as though it could heal...but it weeps, and it festers. It soon opens again to find my tears falling like stars. Brilliant. Shining. Dying. The pain comforts me, and fits like an old glove. It warms me, and reminds me that without it, I have nothing to feel at all. Without pain, I am a smiling, glowing representation of some celluloid interpretation of the way people should be. The sparkling, faceted shadow of a prism of false moments. For the things I love do not love me back. The wishes I've spent do not come back to relive. The things I create do not create me. The tomorrow I should have had never comes. And still...I write, and I write, and I write...and it holds the pain like a levee. When will that no longer be enough? When will the levee break?