There are thorns in my throat. They scrape away at its edges; leaving no absolute sign of their presence other than my silence. I swallow the blood that they spill; as discretely as I can. Of course, lest my words betray me - my phenotype, my appearance and what I chose to show... They may have grown in size or number as I feel the numbness creep up my tongue and down my esophagus or maybe I am trying to find an excuse not to mention any other vital organ in question.
Suddenly, I feel like I am choking on them; like the world is moving at a fast pace. Like I am travelling through space and time. Like I feel zero gravity. Like I feel disturbed - internally, physically, mentally and more importantly emotionally. Like I have no clue of any method I can imply to hide the pain as I swallow each thorn one by one. It is as if I am about to finish -
But what is the use, the world could only see those supposedly "pretty blooming flowers".
Only flowers.
Live more. Laugh often. Love much.
