(no subject)
It is only when my heart feels true sadness that my eyes turn this shade of green. A green that is the same shade of grass that has begun to die, that wreched olive green. I'm not quite sure why nor do I know how this has befallen over me as a shroud. I cry for no reason when I walk only amougst myself. A feeling of lost wanderings pumps through my very veins - helpless, vulnerable, behind a mask I dare not remove. Yet, I do not even know what hides behind this mask I've created for myself. As of now, it only serves as a vessle hollowed. Meaningless and without purpose. I hate this.