There's a wicked feeling that washes over me from time to time. In the silence, the pictures begin repeating in my mind. Flashes. Flashes of the expressions on faces, looking at me oddly. Disappointed, confused, frustrated, ugly faces... Mirrors all of you. Cracked, broked, shattered reflections of a shattered, broken, cracked person. Stabbing needles, knives shoots of bamboo ripping into my skin shouting, yelling angry... Words. Venom. Biting, violence. Sadness, loathing, hiding. Over, broken. Done. Done, done. Empty. Waiting to be watered, dry broken. Disgusting. Vile.
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