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May 2016
could be the Midas touch, except not at all. Everything touched does not solidify into something valuable, instead it disassembles immediately losing the vibrant colors.

As I shuffle through this once magical place, the trees swoop low reaching for extending with their spiny tips.

My legs are bruised from the countless blows I took from myself. My feet are blistering in the dirt beneath my spoiled flesh. The tears are relentless down my cheeks, the flow hasn't slowed just as the river my comrades think is so beautiful. Contrast it with my face, let it haunt your memories, tell me you think it's beautiful now. continuing down this rotting path, my limbs dismantle as they have grown weak, my head topples to the hard earth with a disturbing thud.

an overwhelming sense of peace consumes my mind at the idea of no longer continuing to ***** a seemingly perpetual journey through the coldest hell I have ever been in. I used to be warm now I am shaking vigorously lying on the ground. my eyes tilted toward the movement in the brush. the sounds grow louder as they draw nearer to where I lay. the moon has abandoned me, my last true partner. he has gone behind a curtain of smoke to hide his eyes from what he is about to witness. of course, he knew he couldn't save me!! silly man why did he try, maybe it was because I couldn't touch him from so far. He smokes another cigarette immediately turning my eyes black. the trees are ripping at my intestines. Now, the peace has gone and there is nothing left to do but close my eyes and await the horrendous ending.

and then I felt her soft hand, and my tears no longer fell for fear of dying.
I was saved.
Written by
Rhianna Powell
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