And so she kept walking, running, knowing her gift will not
save her this time. As long as she'll go on, as long as
she'll never stop, safety will be hers to own.
But will it?
She will always carry the memory of that agonizing day, when
realization would hunt her, until taking over completely.
She was a child, too young to understand pain, though wise
enough to see her mother's gift.
Seeing through them was her gift, one that will orphan her
child. One look through their eyes, one word to confirm
their desperate soul.
That gray day an uninspired strange man stood at the door
equipped with begging eyes. To her terror, her mother
allowed him to enter and bare his soul.
Why her mother would not see his fragility to be the reason
for that attack, she may never know, but as she run through
that door terrified for her life, she already knew, that
gift, the same one that had failed her mother, was running
trough her veins, waiting to fail her as well.
She had seen into him. She knew kindness would trigger his
darkness and now it will be her burden to bare. But how
could I had saved her???
She couldn't. But she will save herself. She will refuse
their eyes, denny their cry that screams out of their
insides and into her soul. She will never be attached, not
to anyone, not to anyplace. That's the only way I know how
to sur....stop it! stop thinking!
Nothing good comes out of memories!
Doweling on your own damn story, how pathetic!
"Hello, I need a room for the night, how much will it be,
sir?" |