fire burns in his heart for he is powerful and indeed he is power he holds it above me smugly he knows what he is he knows and he abuses it abuses everything abuses his power over all of us over me he knows
he knows i love him he knows it and uses it against me abuses everything abuses my love abuses everything tender and sweet and wonderful because of who he is and who holds him in her cold ice-sorceress' embrace her black-clad arms her…
she is…
he's…
why can i not stop thinking? about it. about him. about… us. but we will never be "us". he is he and for all of it i suppose i am he as well.
WE.
posse… we are. we always will be.
NEVER MORE. he will always hold me at arm's length. between myself and my dream, between him and i, there lies a red cross over which i cannot step, for i am unholy.
i am the wind. all through my soul.
i have writer's block. sue me. i'm actually having an entire artistic burnout right now, so you should be damned proud that i cranked out something, at least.
