I see myself as a black mare, an outcast at the back of the herd. Scarred more than any of the other mares, pushed away, scared, alone, not knowing where she belongs. Silently watching the rest of the herd run free. Wishing she could be that happy and care-free. The mare always on the outside looking in. Her mind miles from the present, to a place where trees are full and the grass thick. Here she races the wind, her mind so joyous. Her eyes a window to her soul - compassionate and caring, but none will ever see - fore she cannot force the herd to see what to them does not exist, she is nothing to them. The world continues on but I sit here wondering why I stay. I feel so trapped, much like the mare; so unsure of the future, watching everything from a distance. Behind me lies pain and memories, ahead of me lies the unknown and in the present all there is is pain and hurt and doubt. Always on the inside looking out at the rest of this "happy life" but all I see is a storm ragin' inside my house and worse yet in my mind. Sometimes I think really bad shit when it gets to much to cope with; when burning no longer breaks the cycle of tears and the pain gets more than my mind can handle. Even those who have felt this type of pain do not understand the intensity of it.