So many of them.
So many of them so much happier than me.
Prettier than me.
More successful, in every way
Those who matter more than me.
So they must be right.
The colors I perceive,
The weave and texture I feel,
Is not.
As I dissolve my being
Rendered unseen
All thoughts imprisoned
Into perfect reflections.
As I watched the world go by in multi-fractured ways.
I wish someone had said-
Sometimes blood is black
And the sky is pink
It’s not your perception
It’s just the way you think.
Some are born to tread alone
Have faith, have strength, have appreciation.

-alka