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 May 2018 No one
 May 2018 No one
People are like clay.
We can mold to adapt.
We can change how we look,
But not what we are made of;
And if we are left uncared for
We become as hard as rocks,
And that's the tragedy of living.
 May 2018 No one
Greg Jones
Her eyes held the story of the tale of our young love,
Somewhere beneath her somber eyes.
Locked up away from me in a tower of her making.
Why do you hide away my love?

I’m in! I can save her
From the torment of her prison.
Escape the walls that echo out her pain.
But these eyes are not hers,
They are frozen in apathy.
“I never told you to come.”

Her hand I squeezed tightly while we ran down the corridor.
Desperately searching for the exit.
I felt her demons closing in now,
They were foaming at the mouths to
Deprive of us safety and love.

Then she fell down
On the floor, crawling, breathing hard,
Begging me to give up.

“You’ll be dead
Before you even reach the stairs.
They’ll take you too, I swear.”

The darkness surrounds her,
Slowly dragging her away now.
She won’t resist it or even fight.
“****** your memory,
Just forget all about me.
You’ll be safer once you do.”

I can’t just abandon the hope of restoring her heart.
I know it’s in her waiting for life again.
Snatching her away from the shadows that have plagued her,
Striving for freedom once again.

That’s it! Think I found it!
The exit from this construction
Laced with the smell of fear and mold.
I was too excited of the thought having her back,
I barely felt her slip away.

Turning to see her face just to be greeted by a pain
Piercing my flesh, piercing my soul.
She holds the knife, unaffected by her actions.
“I’ll be the death of you, you know.”

Like her, I too was slowly dying.
Her face welled up but she’s not crying.
Through tears I beg don’t let the dark win.

“Leave me to die.”

— The End —