The Mood Ring

My moods are like the colours of your 

Skin as it tans in the fiery sun,

Sensitive without protection,

Medication or some other deadly bodily inhabitant,

Some form of mental decay,

Can offer.

But I'm over that.

To replace is not to replace in entirety.

Everything has a unique shape.

Like the shapes our lives make,

like the shape the shadows

make in my mind,

when you say those thorny things,

When you prick me with those intolerable poisonous syllables that roll of the 

tongue

That make me spiral down

Towards what feels like an inevitable destiny.

For a second.

Then it passes, like a cloud over the sun,

making shadows on the pavement as we

walk past our thoughts...