They called me a narcissist, unfeeling, unyielding. But what they do not know is that there are worlds within my steely world. Pools of melting lava in my veins, ice in my eyes and a crown of thorns upon my head.
There are jagged corners of my soul, sharp edges of my mind. I’m the observer, holding my stony glance over the people who come and go. I’m colored by the primary emotions. Reds and blues and greens. Where one ends and the other begins no one knows. Forced within the confines of my palms, there is my divinity. They can call me a narcissist, but I am my own, most powerful preserver.
5400 x 7200 px