Do you feel it? That sharp pain in your chest or that heavy weight on your shoulders. Do the words sting? Do they burn in your chest and clog your throat. Do you sometimes wish you could lose all of the feeling and become and empty void?
Do those words replay in your head thousands of times each night? Do your tears fall each time you remember the humiliation? Do you constantly hear the words they say to you every day?
Every time you think about it do you just want to scream as loud as you can but you can't your voice just won't come the actions are never made. It hurts. It hurts so much. I wonder, have you tried to shut it out, have you locked away your voice or thrown away your heart?
I know. You try to. You want to. More than anything you want it all to stop. You want them to leave you alone, you want the teasing to end, but she's there. It's strange. All of the yelling and teasing.
All of the problems at home, the lack of love given to you, the empty, shallowness, and the blank expression on your face the look in your eyes, as if you are only half there. She's always with you, in another world, in your heart, or in your thoughts, fighting, living, feeling every blow you are dealt.
You may feel a sharp pain somewhere in your mind, but she's the one who takes the damage. She's there, your other self, the other you, the you who fights to keep your smile going. She loves you and wants you to be happy and free as the color you are.
"Does it hurt?"
"That pain in your chest?"
"No matter how much it hurts or how sharp the pain feels, the wound won't bleed, or leave a scar behind. Because even though it feel like you were stabbed it's not you who takes the physical pain, no matter how much it hurts it's just a trick of the mind, it's Her"
the whispers can be heard and a reply of so many colors.
"I don't care how many times I'm hurt and I don't care how much the pain my chest is, because no matter what happens to me she is protecting me with everything she's got. So you can hurt me as much as you like, that's what this world is. So while we can we need to make different colors, and find new things. Wont you? Wont you take my hand instead of letting it ruin you?"
So many, many different things I want to see. A pure white bird. She was small and frail. Bored and tired of plain. Wanting to change. Curious of new places.
"I want to see many new colors"
she says. She flies to a brighter sky. The orange of smiles, now on her wings.
"Such a lovely color, such a lovely world I want to see more"
she flies away. The pink of sneezes added color to her still white wings. A pink sky, still many places to go. The blue of tears, flying through color each time added to her plain little body. The red of anger, bright and pretty.
Her wings, taking the many new colors. The purple of haze, seeing new things. The green of pain. A bolt of happiness running through her each time experiencing more and more of the things she wanted, as she little by little changes from something boring into something beautiful.
The yellow of possession, filling an erasing the white. So many colors, so many worlds, the new places and new found happiness out of a dull light. Each time she went to a new world her wings took the color and absorbed it to her wings.
Yet why? Slowly, and slowly, the colors mix, turning what was once plain then new to ugly black. Mixing and ruining the colors. She falls, and fall and falls, for what seems like forever. The color now gone, like paint mixing together all of the pretty colors turn dull. She dies, and so do the colors she so lovingly found.
Do you see? Too many changes. Eventually colliding and turning to nothing. Why couldn't she have a happy ending? Now, the one who is inside of you, the color that you have yet to fully find she's still fighting inside of you. Fighting for you to smile and fighting so she can live.
Battling your pain. Walking inside of a wasteland of sorrow that's inside of you. She feels it; she feels the pain you take. Yet she continues to fight for you. Every color, every battle, every time you try to fly and find the one that suits you best.
She can die too. Fighting for you, while you feel empty and have no idea what to do, when you brake. When you lose control in your mind. When you have cracked, she's there trying to keep you alive on the inside. If she dies will you be okay?
When she dies, you'll be new, the pain leaves you, and you can again smile and laugh freely. Because she died for you, your other self, the you that is hidden. The you that fights. The you who is a color of its own whether it be the pink of sneezes or the blue of tears or the orange of smiles, it's you, all you.
The reality is hard and trying to survive without cracking is tough, I'm sure you would rather switch places with her and fight, but maybe, maybe if you find the color that suits your wings you can leave the boring white world you live in and go to the one that's you.
The other you can smile as long as you are happy. The little bird found her happiness even though she died she found everything she wanted but was weighed down. Find the one thing that makes you smile but not weigh you down.
Embrace that one weakness as a strong point. Strength. Gold. Blue. Death. Letting yourself crack, letting yourself hurt. It's okay to cry and feel pain, that's what she's for to help you with the pain inside.
Just find your one color. Smile and be the you that isn't fighting but laughing. The little white bird you are, fly to a colorful world and let your wings take on the color. What if, what if she didn't die, what if she was just falling.
No. The little bird opened her eyes and realized she was just falling she got up and started to fly again, she became free, the colors washed away and she can go discover new colors and new happiness. She can't, she can't have a sad ending right?
Neither can you. Li'l bird with many colorful colors.