'I'll Be Your Distraction.'

Ever Find Out Someting You Didn't Want To Know.

Shouldn't Know.

About Someone, Something Or Yourself.

Does You Mood Ever Change With The Weather?

What's In A Mistake?

Regret Or Motivation?

Feelings Fade.

But The Ones You Don't Want, Stay.

The Feeling Of Realisation.

Not The Good Kind.

The Kind With A Flash Of Shock And A Heart So Heavy You Feel It Sink.

Then Shatter Like A Light Glass Ornament.

Then The 'Pain' Shadowed Buy The Numbness.

Then You Stare At Any Inanimate Object While Your 'Cotton Wool' Brain Tries To Think.

Then A Tear, One Single Tear.

To Start The Flood.

And When It Dries Up And Your Face Stings.

The Place Where Your Heart Sank To.

Ignites.

The Anger No, Rage.

Takes Over Your Broken Self.

Where Your Brain Becomes Hot Coals Working Overtime.

Thoughts Rushing In And Out.

Trying To Justify This Unfortunate Event.

But It Can't Find The Logic.

And No Longer Knows Love.

Then The Itchy Feeling Comes.

Making It Impossible To Stay Still.

So I Cleaned My Room.

To A Standard Monica Would Be Proud Of.

Just To Distract Me From You.

And This Unnecessary Event.

I'm Pacing My Room In A Mind I Don't Know.

Thinking What Is To Come Of Me Next.

Brace Myself For The Next Time I'm Guessing.

I'd Like To Say It Gets Easier.

But It Doesn't And It Wont.

It Will Always Pounce.

Catch You Off Your Guard.

Shock You Out Of Your Wits.

Had A Strange Feeling You Were Different.

But You're Just Another Event.

It's A Funny Feeling.

Realisation.

I Realise Your Not To Blame.

It's Me And Always Will Be.

Always The Girl With Her Head In The Clouds.

That Forgets How Much It Hurts To Live This Life.

The 'Real World' Life.

In Trying To Think Of A Suitable End To This Rant.

I Realise, You Won't Know This Is About You.

And Your Questioned Choices.

It Won't Enlighten Or Change You.

Or Your Cheap, Timeless Ways.

I've Spoken Of Wasted Beauty Many Times.

If You Haven't Guessed I'd Really Like To Get That Point Across.

But Your Beauty, Is Wasted On You. xXx