The wind singing outside the blinded window. The speaking voices, from a strand of a nerve they
My eyes twitched know and then. I let this feeling escape but it never fled.
It's grip on me shook every vein. So,I hold it closer with such grace.
I dip my hands all the way to the surface. Breaking throughout the other end of the bucket.
It ooze,escaping from the cracks of my hands. And I smear it all over and I gaze at every drop as it
I twist my head side to side to get all it's angels. And the feeling of grace started to rattle.
The voices spoke louder and louder. The wind's voice stronger and faster.
I clapped my hands at the same rhythm as the wind. And a smile that did not belong to me spread
through my face.
The strand of nerve broke and the voices shriek. I laughed hysterical of how all of this seemed.
With my right hand I launched the red paint straight. And grinned at how the splat sound was made
But that sound echoed throughout the room and slowly left, so I kept launching the paint.
I took turns spreading that paint to the wall. The wind singing with a melody as I hummed.
The voices shrieking all over my skull. That feeling of grace was getting just too strong.
The song of the wind was hammering to my head. And the voices where dancing around all the rest.
I threw and threw the paint all around. My hands were just a smear of red as my motion was so fast.
I started to catch my breath. I thought that the whole room was red.
The color surrounding every step I take. The paint dripping from my fingertips.
I blink once or twice then twitch. But that color burn my very skin.
I figure I was done from all the feelings I unpack. I observe the finish as all this began.
But a blank wall just stared back.