The flame ignites just as fast as it burns out with her. Haunting images of that photo book still sit in a locked box. Why she holds on is even a mystery to herself. At this point she is too tired for hate but too awake to give in. The noose is tied tight and she is bound but not gagged. She still has a voice and sight. You play hair dresser with her. Massage her brain enough to relax as she almost slips through the cracks. Let go of the entity that does not exist. Nothing can ever be so secure. Her life has been a test of wills. Its amazing how high she holds her head up. Shattered walls and it is you that keeps her from crossing the paths with another without thinking of you. She extends the branch but you take the whole tree and suck the sap from its limbs till it withers away but with one bright leaf shining. The flame that is her existence refuses to burn out. Even if it turns just to a gas you are there to ignite the flame. Why?
Sleepers. You don't invade her cycle anymore so maybe your hold on her isn't as strong anymore. Are you listening? If you were face to face I don't think she would run but would she coward herself to silence? Runs red flows eastward down a cavern pit made for one. At least it once was. Dreams vast beyond a Freudian slip. Sneak attack and struggle is now lost. What once was can not be forgotten.
Dispute.
Dissipate..
Deliverance...
The relentless cycle repeats. You turn up out of nowhere. Like a mole in a hole. Cute from a distance by rabid at chose touch. Never in her vicinity. Does he speak the truth?
Destroyed.
Despair.
Infrared.
Her retina burns but her sight just won't relinquish itself. She looks away for now but his web will tangle her until she is caught and can't move. Does a lost shoe make a noise once it hits the ground running? I have been thinking about.....
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