In My Pink High Heels

SuperStar

Many a cross road I have faced in my childish, self-obsessed years, cross roads for conversation, cross roads of acceptance, cross roads of boredom, none of which geared me for cross roads of reality that I am face-to-face with now.

Here is this path that I have run upon, danced upon, made love upon but slowly I have grown tired, proud, elitist and unforgiving and upon it I collapse in stupidity and complacency hating to arise from my self-induced materialistic coma that hides me from the horizons that break in to a thousand little paths that taunt me to come and see.

In my run-on lines I find no peace, God's helpers subdue me only so that I may return to my coma once again.

The paths before me are long and joyous, in its unpredictability I see terror and reality, I see love and maturity and I see my self playing a role I have longed for... But I cannot move, I cannot cry out, I cannot breathe in this weighty foreboding that threatens my existence now.

I long for some on to move me, push me, kick me and chase me from my serenity, But all I get is a stare, a mocking face, a sneer a leer. NOTHING. NO ONE. wakes me from by oblivion.

So I crawl, I stop, I lounge, I drink expensive coffee and eat bland American food, and look back in sympathy at the girl with the curly disobedient hair who skips in tune with her heart beat. Where is that girl? Look at the naive girl! I laugh with those around me as she skips past me oblivious to the smell of fat purses and never ending lies.

Where is that girl?

She passes me by without a glance, skips past the horizon and each day she laughs along a different path as her hair whips around her wildly and hand in hand with a strong tall boy she makes discoveries, praises God and finds redemption.... I look at her with contempt.

I look at myself in contempt.

Who am I?

posted by pINKhIGHhEELS @ 11:40 PM