Grey

A few things represent me: The color grey for example, She's a beaute, isn't she? I've felt drawn to her, especially when my soul had been just that, grey. It has then gone on to taint my soul, my heart, my mind at every occasion. It would have been a crime not to paint my destiny in her. But what else is there? The familiar scent of rejection? The agonizing taste of nostalgia? No? Maybe the 21 awards I'd trade without a sigh's moment worth? The glasses that crack due to the heavy weight maintained in my scalp? The hauntingly mesmerizing words turned sour? A promise I'm not morose in person? I've often heard that you'd rather lay eyes on my soul's vessel than hear the cries of the same very soul. Of course, I've only ever heard it from the third layer that daunts my soul, the very one that hurts at the mention of it. She's obviously accompanied by Grey; Like a fairytale in a child's dream, they become inseparable. But heed her warning. Stay away from the sharp turn of phrase that she takes, because soon you'll be a spectator to the ever-running show of gut-wrenching twists that is my mind.