Blood ran down her face, a parody of tears, seeping into the cracks and world weary creases of her face. Her eyes mirrors her pain, the pain splintered into pieces. Her hair lifeless, patches exposed revealing short clumped hair, the remnants of which lie on the ground pulled out in pain unfelt. Faint red lines, like lipstick crisscrossed her arms, memoirs of her afflicted soul. Her throat ravaged, burned by the screaming of her emptying her soul, an excruciating tempo dying to a hoarse whisper.
She was beautiful, she is nothing. She loved, she’s dead. She lived in his arms for a while, her body, now, is an empty shell.
Promises made to her, were broken, dreams given to her, snatched away without a moment’s hesitation, her love, broken. Her lips cracked and shifted trying to arrange their selves into a shape more common to it’s use, she was trying. To smile. Useless. Futile. It wouldn’t work, they dropped, soothing her aching face.
Here she sat, with her legs crossed over, an X. Her arms crossed her legs too, also forming an X, protecting herself. From who? Those words she’d snatched from his mouth, almost greedily taken them in, hoping they would mean something, they did, didn’t they? Her tongue laden, she fumbled over the words, blood leaking down her cracked lips “Through all kinds of weather, what if the sky should fall, just as long as we are together, it doesn’t matter at all.”
Her soul was spent, there was nothing left to pick up, and yet, try, she did. Inside her mind, a shredded fog of misery, she sifted until she found the young woman standing, not sitting, waiting for her to find her. She looked just like the broken woman, without the pain, the misery, the sorrow, the blood, that agony. She looked younger, and strong.
A voice surrounded her, echoing “You are not alone. I’m here, right here. Come out of the dark, come into the light. I love you, you are not alone.”
The poor girl, like an echo, repeated only the last word, “alone…..alone……alone!” She could not hear the rest, just that one word twisting it into something dark and ugly, full of sorrow.
She sat there, the dark taking over her mind, her mind was that of an aged person, her body, 80 years old. She broke under the weight of the world, and still she sat there, mumbling that single word. She was only 16.
via blackfashion
via iamsuffering