The Everyday, Ghosts, Murders, and Dreamers.

A spark. Glow. Like the light of a fire. Is born, lives, then dies.

A reflection. Splash. Like the body of water. Falls, follows, then disappears.

A attack. Death. Like a vulture attacking its prey. Loiter, attacks, then kills.

A growth. Advance. Like a tree stretching its slender arms into the sky. Grows, lavishes, then is crippled.

-Though I haven't lived long, I have noticed differences in everyday people. 

Some are like fires and sparks, they are born, live, then die, they make a difference, but just get by without much effort. The everyday.

While others are like water and reflections. They follow and copy others, are barely noticed, though they are there. The ghosts.

Others are vultures and attacks. They fly over people heads unnoticed, but then without notice attack and kill others. The murderers.

And a few handful of people are trees. They grow, lavish, and live their life to the fullest. They make a difference, a growth, an advancement. The dreamers.

Invisible but There.

Many people in life are like ghosts. There one moment, gone the next. Some ghosts help, while others cause disasters. And some can change your entire life. I've met a ghost. They exist. They're alive. 

Unlike legends, myths, and scary stories of ghosts, that all add up to be unreal, these types of ghosts are living breathing human. They may be a ghost in your life, but maybe human an other person's life. Living. Breathing. Dreaming. And some even harming. Invisible, but there.

Pool of Crimson

A rigid knife cuts deep into your skin, past your veins and arteries, barely scraping your bone, but you continue to cut deeper. A splash of red bursting the deeper the blade sinks, trembling, tearing. You arm gets weak, holding the piercing tool. A puddle of red could be seen beneath you. A stain on your white tee. A soaking, dripping pool of crimson on your jeans. Drops on your grey converses, slipping into the once white bathtub. Next thing you know your passed out, the dark swallowing you, the pool of crimson continuing to flow, besieged by your own blood. But for what?

Your life may be shit. You may go through hell everyday, but why give yourself more hell, more shit to worry about... more to think about? You may get a buzz, but in the end, your just injecting more pain into your life. Adding another thing that causes you pain. Yourself.