The pain slowly rises up from the toenails of swollen feet, begging to thrive, to not be released... Pulling you in, like an over needy friend, drowning remorse sounds hollow and coarse.
A master of reality design, she finally began to analyze, who was this boy and what did he want, why was it him that got what he got?
An advocate for the weak, something only some can understand, she never had any idea that he was nothing like most men... He was purely a design, a fragment of her mind, a poorly put together story that rhymed, so alone is where she cries, trying again to analyze.
She finds a poem to recite
A voice if she might
Fight this new found stage fright
So many times, they stood at the end of the stage, silently filling her heart with rage.
She ran
She ran as far away from home as she could with that man,
With packs too heavy and without an open hand, together they ran.
Him from his choices, her from those voices
They kept screaming she would fail.
She wanted to run far enough away that by the time she was home they wouldn't know what to say.. But she came home and had to stay.
Reanalyze the pain.
See again what she had left in shame.
The pain.
Please God be with her, please help her pray, please come down to her, and take her pain away
He held her down and blindfolded her, whispered in her ear that she was flying, and then blew wind in her hair as she was crying, calling it Ocean Air. Salty.
How dare me.