Purple Rooms.

I swear the Earth is spinning backwards, Im being catapulted off my feet. I'm falling downwards into a great pile of marshmallows and lost dreams. What should I grab first? Sweet pleasures or futuristic ideals? No more blue skies or brown dirt. All is lost in the whirlwind of octopus legs and baby shoes. I started to cry and my tears were lemon drops, as sour as my pain. There was a hole in my chest that split wide with every step. My guts were falling out! I believe I lost a lung, for my breath was shortened. I tugged at my hair, now pieces of yarn of every color, coarse and awry. I prayed that my insides didn't start to turn to cotton fluff or that my mouth suddenly stitched shut. I couldn't bear to be a doll today. I really wanted to walk on sturdy legs and laugh loudly. Vacuums don't really eat money and the drier never had your socks in the first place. Everything comes together in the end, I suppose.