Whenever I fall asleep, I picture myself running away from something different, in each dream still seeing blood spilled. Still seeing the faces of the dead still haunt me, still seeing people attempt to murder and blame me for something that was never done. And still it floats in my thoughts there’s something that will hit, not knowing the unknown that would be put forward before me.
Still sitting in the same place as I began to write from continuous beginnings of stories that have endings that never finish when they have to end. Every dream that has turned into a nightmare has still an unknown meaning to each one of them. Its been long since magic has touched my hands and floated out of my mouth. Perfection was never a word that mattered to me at all, nor is the phrase, “I’ll be there for you no matter what”, has never really stuck with me either.
Each day I feel weaker, but I never say a word about it. Each night I know I have another day to wake up to. Every inch of strength that is given to me, turns into weakness. Is it possible that the lips of an angel has been silenced by the hand of a demon of a man that’s is purely human. Is her courage turning into fear as her strength is slowly killing every power she’s got to pull through. Is it an angel slowly growing unconsciously, is her pain changing color from rainbow to pitch black once again.
Is the past starting to catch up to her again as she becomes closer to finding her wings, they disappear to a location father from the last spot, as she stands filled with joy and happiness. As the defensive walls that stand to protected her turn into fear that will consume her heart or is the fact that her wings are constantly moving away.