I am invisible. If you need a definition, read invisible man by Ralph Ellison and you to will be invisible. Outside of time.

My friend Christina's father was murdered and then her brother and sister's dad raped her. She knows suffering.

She's hilarious.
She understands my mom.
She's much older then her years.

I love her light. I love her cheeks and the way they crease in the middle when she smiles. I miss her way down deep like dreams.

I dreamt about Wuyuki last night. And I missed him from my stomach.

His dad was also murdered and he is invisible like in my book. Or at least he's tried his hardest to be. But he's much to beautiful for that, and people are drawn to him like they're drawn to fatty foods or good books. He's complicated. There's this network of lies inside his head that he's been constantly telling himself to make him appear to others the way he feels. And I've tried and tried to wade through the lies and see the real inside, but It's been a losing battle. But I miss him way down deep, like thirst.

My dad's father beat his mother and my dad feels the pain deeper then thirst. He feels the pain throughout time and universal truth. And I miss him way down deep like love.

Missing the real.
Missing the truth.
Way down deep I'm missing messed up human beings.
Way down deep I'm missing how it was OK to be messed up
How it was worn on the sleeve like a badge and the people wearing the pain didn't even notice it waving there like death in the breeze...

She circles the tray with her finger and waits for the exact right moment to stand. If she stands now she's sure her knees will buckle beneath her and the hip that has been waiting to crack in three places finally will. When she does get up the air becomes dense and she inhales sharply wishing the light she sees would make it's way in. She picks up the tray, which seems to weigh 100 pounds. She steadies her hand and hopes the people in the Cafeteria can't see it shaking. 'I'm to old for this. Much to old.' But then the voice in her head cries out, 'don't be stupid! You're only as old as you feel.

She makes her way to the tray caddy and sighs with relief when she can finally slip the tray off her fingers, the unbearable weight of it all. Her friend makes her way over with her own tray. 'Are we really that wrinkly,' she thinks looking into her friends face. Shrugging in her head, she backs away from the caddy and hikes her purse higher on her shoulder. "Let's go." Her friend starts walking and she follows...and she follows and has no idea where she's going except down, way down.

Should write something, 'cause I feel like I'm going to implode. All of the outside sucked in to the dark middle that's waiting for the beak down.

Empty
Empty

Waiting for something to fill me up.

Empty
Empty

White