Literature
the package.
I saw fair skin. I saw slightly flushed cheeks, a tint of rose in them. Through my blurred vision and the stinging in my eyes, I saw a sad expression. My eyes stung much like if sweat made its way to a papercut. It was a combination of the blaring light above me, and from the tiny droplets that lied upon my cheek. My throat ached and I felt my skin screaming. My head was spiralling away. I exited the bathroom, smashing the light switch with my ice cold hands. I looked around the sullen cement floor supporting my cold feet with the light iridescent toe-nail polish. I felt the absence around me, realizing the equillibrium I had formed wit
