I'm like a pebble being skipped across the water, a small child having a brush with the unreal. My sanity is as transparent as these words that no longer make sense and I fear I'm going to lose my balance and fall off this tightrope soon. My only hope is the jaws of a lion aren't waiting below because I've yet to tame death and I can feel it consuming my shadow and prickling my skin with goose bumps.
They used to tell me I should join a circus one day but I preferred to eat animal crackers and sip on apple juice instead. There are a thousand, no a thousand and three miles separating my lungs and their deprecation of oxygen as they've filed a formal protest, suing me for negligence because of the one time I thought it would be cool to inhale cigarette smoke. I choked it right back up and my throat was sore for weeks, like the time I went scuba diving.
I was stung by a jellyfish and let out a girlish scream only to have ocean water jet down my throat. The salt clung to my esophagus and threatened to turn my insides into ash and that's the closest I've ever been to Chinese water torture.
I'm like a forecast of partly cloudy with a 40% chance of rain, except the rain is in the form of words strung together in an attempt to be humorous, yet the only funny thing about me is the way I pronounce roof.
I'm afraid of heights and I'm too clumsy to climb a ladder so don't expect to snap a photo of me tracing the constellations as I lay flat on my back on the roof. Plus, I'm not very photogenic and I would rather take a pencil to s sketchpad than be stuck behind a camera lens, trapped within a 3 second time frame and a blinding flash.
I'm much more than this hollow shell I come off as and I'm much more than the letters I put together to try and impress, but if you study me long enough, you'll find I'll always be much less than you were led to believe.