--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My world in in chaos. Pieces of my life lies shattered around my house, in a disorderly order that it seems only I can read, only I can see. But I cannot clear it up. I cannot touch it. Will not touch it. Nothing can be done about my life now. Nothing can make it right. Nothing can clean up the mess I’ve made around me, trying to understand. That shouldn’t be so hard really, understanding. As it is, I am the reason for this mess. I made it, yet I cannot understand it. The mess around me is my own, my creation, yet I cannot seem to see the pattern in it, how it came to be, and how I can make it go away. I can clearly see it, the pattern, swirling in front of me, taunting me, making its presence known to me, well knowing there is nothing I can do about it. A pattern of black and yellow, intertwined, mixed, colors fading into each other, one becoming the other. The pattern is there, right in front of me, holding all the answers. Everything I need to know is there, right there, yet I cannot touch it. Why I did the things I did. Why I made this mess that now surrounds me. All the answers lies within the pattern, black and yellow, undefined, untouched, like a veil lifted over a little girls face, shielding her from the world. There lies the reason I left him, the reason I hurt him, the reason I broke two hearts with a single blow. There lies the reasons for my actions, yet no matter how much I grasp
for them, they will always be just beyond my reach.
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© WHYTEknight 2002-2008. This story is fiction, which means it is not true, none of this is real. Any actions similar to reality is just a coincidence. This story may be based on real people, but it is not about real events. I do not know the Backstreet Boys, nor am I in any way affiliated with them, their friends, family or management. Again, this is a work on fiction, I made it up! |
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