my fake plastic love

7:38 AM

The frustration I feel when I can't form the right words has nowhere else to express itself than down my cheeks. A single stream from the corner of my eye, exactly like the seamless line I used to equate to the future. It may tremble slightly, or become temporarily stuck by makeup, but it inevitably would congregate in full underneath my chin, where it was supposed to. That would be the beginning and the liquid would melt into my skin and be still. Now it is faced with the possibility of dropping off my face and falling god knows where and that in itself is a terrifying reality. So the question is, do I lift my hand up and wipe it clean and not give it the chance? Do I take it away for good? Or do I let it fall and let it go nowhere and lose it in the chaos of my dress? Or do I see if somehow, on it's own, it decides to melt and make itself a part of me that I get to keep forever? The only option I ever saw is now one of three and realistically is the least likely but the most craved.

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0 speaks

sup fool.