Facade

Like a distant hello. Like a foreseeable goodbye. Like contemptuous humming of thoughts as audible as a loudspeaker blaring out across a quiet street. Feet shuffling. Frenetic pacing. An echo of silence. Silence that says more then a million words could ever convey, no matter how lucid and expressive they were. Misinterpretation knocking on a door. Answering a call. Answering to a flaw.

The world is such a large expanse of never-ending opportunity. Opportunity comes and goes and it's always as it passes by us that we realise it was there in the first place. People fear opportunity for the change it brings. You're afraid to step out of your comfort zone. To delve into a new experience. To hear new sounds. To taste new food. To smell new smells. As opportunity passes us by it's our own interpretation of it's facade that instigates a reaction. Judgment. Prejudice. Fear or flight.

She's being used. She is a sock puppet. A mannequin who's actions are controlled by a hand that over thrones the stage that is life. I am the audience. I am the watcher. What goes on backstage is unforeseen. You are like a mannequin come to life in search of opportunity. Pinnochio. Weaving lies. Searching yet misinterpreting all of life's facades. Rape suddenly becomes the norm. Then you move on.