Tears....

After the lightened haze, she turned her head to be locked in a box of velvet bricks. Walls so thick, cannot hear the sobs of this wretched detachment — desolation bleeds out the eye. So cold, yet soothing; this deadly peace in which She abides. Her home of mirror loathing. A self-constructed castle of fabrications. Beyond are Smiles of paint, sighs of concealed impatience.
They say time passes quicker when you're happy. The laughter would carry it away, without brushing you with its breeze…and you simply would not notice. I suppose, if that's true, then time would be heavy and thick when you're sad.Yes, I agree… I don't know much about happiness –and that is because I tolerated being bleak- but I know that sadness is savored, not only felt…that is why some people would hang on to their heartrending memories. Another thing is … I don't think people can take pain for granted, but they seem to have a habit of doing just that with blissful moments. I felt time going slow once, now… even with the burdens I bear, time is going fast. What would that mean? …I'm just being the anomaly that I am? or that "my mask of sanity is about to slip".I don't know how things are moving too fast, but Death's Arrow runs faster than lightening...