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twindrill Aug 2022
she was my jane doe, my everything.

we flew to arizona.
she was my partner, my lover, wondering what i could be thinking about.
her. a different kind of her
"not now," she thinks,
"what about jane doe?"
i understand, and oblige.

the light stirs
we crash down and fall and almost burn
but live
others were not so lucky.

when we fell, i thought about her.
my jane doe.

this place wasn't a place of god, no matter what it said
the things they did to women
children
babies
sickening.

it reminded me of what they did to her,
my jane doe.

her, my partner, my lover
was gone, but i still found her.
we walked and knew we would lose each other again,
no matter how much it hurt us

the light continued to stir
and when it did
i saw her,
my jane doe,
my everything.

it happened so many years ago
we were children
young souls destined to go to heaven

if we were good.

if we weren't, they would lecture us, punish us.
yours was undeserved,
my jane doe.

i tried to be good. i tried to not say a word.
i knew what sin meant,
but i knew even more of your love for me

love.

the prophet said it was love when he slaughtered the women and children.
the heretic said it was love when she played with me like she did all those years ago
they didn't know. they'll never know

but i knew
when i knew you were there,
my jane doe,
my one and only,
my everything.

the child was you, the one who came back for me,
my jane doe.

it was nobody's fault; not yours, not mine, but his?
there is no doubt.
there is nothing.
but you,
my jane doe.

one last stir of light
helpless,
we would be one again.

now i lie here alone
where artificial light stirs
where voices mumble
and when two people say

they have plans for me.
outlast 2 tribute.
tw: ****** assault, child abuse.
twindrill Oct 2020
Do you want to play?, it asks.
You have no choice.
A simple romp in vibrant green fields, surrounded by an impossibly blue sky—

That bottomless pit wasn’t there before.

Do you want to play again?, it asks.
You have a choice. You agree.
You play again, and again, and again.
And you never stop—

—until that cake is yours.
twindrill Oct 2020
In the house, a blue rose sits inside its icy interior.
Still as blue as ever, its petals unwithered.
Frozen in time, as always.

A red butterfly sits atop the ice, its legs pierced by the chill.
Red and blue, together as one. An elusive combination.
Frozen in time, as always.

Children peer into the ice, gazing at the treasure beneath.
It is so valuable, they think. And yet so unobtainable.
Frozen in time, as always.

The clock tower ignores the ice, focusing on the world itself.
There is no sign of cold in this world, aside from the rose's eternal cage.
Frozen in time, as always.

Centuries pass according to the ice, but would you know that?
The ice has barely melted, and the rose has barely faded.
Frozen in time, as always.

Frozen in time, as always.

— The End —