My emotions are wrapping around one another, so that it is impossible to pull them apart. Anger, sadness, and despair merge together to form something immense and bewildering. They fight as a small but formidable army, and I quickly surrender.
I have brought in people to my world, thinking it would be of great benefit to no longer live in the shadows. One is much like the other. Different names, with faces unique. This does not matter, when at their core there is no color. They are all composed of grey, only impressive when the sky displays it. So, I long for my shadows once more, where it is always cool and dark.
If people could just never reveal their names, then I would remain fascinated. My eyes fixed on slow confessions. Men would guard their treasure jealously. Women could stitch their lips to keep from betraying themselves. I would know nothing of another, but would invent it, like a child telling her first story to a mother, any mother. It would all amount to fabrications based on idealizations. Only then would I never grow bored. I would never turn away from someone who I thought I could love. They would find a faithful ally in me. But I cannot look at someone in the eyes when they have so quickly given it all away. They have given me their father, their mother, their lovers. I know it all, and will hear it repeated ad infinitum.