Smooth alabaster and cool as ice. His heart. His words piercing to those who are attracted by him. They seek to find a calm and he is the eye of the storm that is life. He is unmoved by the cries of women and the jealousy of men.
We can only hope to be able to catch a glimpse of him as he moves so fast out of our vision. We can all move like magnets to his whim. A shooting star. Alone in the space, around that he has called without words, his own.
I see him from behind the crowd, peering behind a building in the furthermost corner of his presence.
I see how the crowd behaves. How women fawn over him to a point and beyond losing their dignity. Yet I cannot say I am not the same. I might not be shouting aloud, proclaiming my love, but I would.
Run. Go back to the realm which you have came from. To that place I will never know and I don’t belong. This is a message for both you and me.
A message of self hate and an inferiority complex that you probably will never understand. Only disgust towards me, prehaps.
Doesn’t it drive you insane or even make you feel disgusted? The way you are an object in their eyes. You aren’t even human in our eyes. Aren’t you afraid? How can you stand so comfortable in your own skin?
Thoughts of how people think drive me insane. Keeping the delicate balance between conforming and individuality, to feel a sense of belonging whilst retaining yourself in a world so large to belong to.
How can you stand to be anything else but human?