Fish


I want to be a fish. I want to sink under water and live in a quiet little fish bowl. Revert back to a primordial being. Or maybe a cat. I can lay in the sunshine with my belly up. I could be a hermit, living in a grotto with only books to keep me company.

Atlas carried the world on his shoulders. How heavy the whole world must be, even for a giant. Just my tiny little one seems immense after a while. I suppose what we can bare is relative to the size of our heart or the pocket we put our strength in.

My pockets are empty. I want to go away. I want to disappear. I want to sink back into the abyss I came from and take Davy Jones for a husband.

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“I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.”― Alice WalkerThe Color Purple

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A book about someone who was taken for grated.

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