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A potion of fermented potatoe skins poured over shards of solid water.
Into a shattered teacup, pieced back together with cheap glue. Liquid poured in and it slowly seeps through the cracks. Pooling into the palm of my hands. Running down my arms. It always knicks my lip. Yet I can't bring myself to throw it away.
Mastering the art of displaying a genuine smile, while masking the pain in my eyes is the ultimate game. Tired of delivering explanations, that seemingly fall on insistently, deaf ears. Perception levels like fathoms of the deep sea.
Scenes replaying in my dreams. Same beginning, different endings.
Scenes replaying in my dreams. Same beginning, different endings.
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