in which it ends up somewhere where it didn't start

i wanted to vomit orange rainbows into the heavens to mix with the stars. 
i wanted so badly my fists shook.
put my face between my knees. 
something familiar. 

i haven't touched my face so much in weeks. 
grey soft sweater. 
always, hide my hands.

i cannot look at myself. it's all fallen down.

the tinnitus in my left ear is worse, won't stop.
it pulls me to the left, the devil's side.

i'm losing myself. 
again. 
or remembering, again, that i am already lost.
is that not more or less the same thing?
i'm getting rather bored of this. 

although, to be fair, it is a saturday. 
and there is barely a translucent sun.

i need to go to sleep again.
the sleeping princess, await the kiss.
but my true love's here so i guess that's not the answer. 
why did we ever think it would be?

in this tale the heroine searches her dreams for the potion
that will stop her body from disappearing. 

it's an impossible quest.
but they all are; they need to be. that's part of the formula.

how does she see if she's gashed her leg open or skinned her knee?

spoiler: heroine dies of unknown gangrene. 

moral? know who you are before you begin. 
that's one that challenges the old rote form.

what if who you think you are is the one vomiting rainbows?
beautiful and lonely and sad. 
her insides spill out but there aren't colors enough to fill them again. 
tears erase fat transparent lines down her cheeks.

she starts to forget her own name. pinches her arm to remember but it's not there.
classic fairytale twist. now she's got two quests, both as impossible.
and of course, time's running out. 

what does happen to your proprioception if you can't see your limbs?
do they float invisibly about? can you still touch your nose?
how long until you can't find your own self?

grey hands, please cover my face.

this heroine will not be rescued. 
this is not a children's film.

this heroine will die alone of crusted orange and rot green.