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Your Turn

I prefer the shadows these days. Brightness and "clarity" only blinds the fickle.   This darkness becomes me. For I know what it feels like to be fire, to be the element.    I was so tired of wearing that jaggedly twisted unclean smile.
These traitorous painted lips smiled at any excuse, sometimes never refusing to stop. 
Only a Jester's sinister grin came close to being just as terrifying.    My new and improved stormy demeanor came with a charming and intimidating scowl. 
Mornings were finally productive because i no longer found my reflection mocking me with it's constant unwilling, gentle leer.    Finally, it was your turn to smile like the menace. 
My inner monster was thrilled in the shadows, no doubt already thinking up, cruel ways to make it happen.  



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