Note: If you like the poetry that I have posted on Bleeding Heart, then I'm sure you will be happy to hear that I have posted a new story called 'The Lockheart Project'. It is a collection of some of the best poetry on this story as well as some others that I have written from the POV of other characters. It's under the Poetry category, and rated M. (Just in case.)

Chapter 10- If They Catch Me

If They Catch Me- A poem by Tifa Marie Lockheart

If they catch me, I'm so dead. Everything slips into your view by happenstance, and that's how it will always be remembered. If they catch me, I will walk out and not stop walking until I see sand. I want to walk that far, but I don't know how long my legs can take me. I don't know how much food I could pack to keep me. Yes, if they catch me, I'm lower than dirt, with no future to hope for.

But if they don't catch me,
keep on doing...
...they're not too good at catching.

But I still hop out of my chair.

(Catch me doing what, exactly?)

In the end, nothing really changes. A punishment waits for those who endanger, when there is no one in any real danger. Imperceptible.

Perhaps my sin will catch up to me when the files get corrupted...buy a new one.

Where are they going, what are they talking about, who's looking?

If I was a fly on this wall, watching over my own back, I would be watching over my own back.

When I write, I write. When I read, I read. When I surf the web...I surf water.

The sign says 'Shark!', but there are none there.
The sign must be removed...it lies.
The first day without the sign is the day the shark strikes.

Gosh, and I thought today was a free day!

___________________________________________

So Yuffie can't keep her mind off of Vincent. No big deal. I'll just...no, I already did that. Okay, then I'll...nope. Did that too. What's a girl to do when she don't feel nothin'?

*Ding Dong!*

Aw crap! I forgot Cloud was coming today!

___________________________________________

From the moment I heard the knock, I could sense that brand-new-man sound in his voice. He was happy. That sure was different. Still, there was no way in hell that I was going to let him back in.

"What do you want, Cloud?"

"I came back for you, Tifa! I've changed, I promise. All of the excess Mako was drained, and I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"Too late."

"I need your help to get my memories back."

"You really want to remember what life was like in this past year?!"

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't."

"Why not?"

"Cloud Strife, you can't handle the memories!"

"Oh...I see. You know, I was just hoping that you could tell the difference."

"You look different, I'll give you that."

"Trust me, Tifa. Please, that old man wasn't me! You have to believe that the Mako clouded my judgement."

"I'm never letting you in, ever!"

"So...I guess you're the one with the problems now?"

I thrust open the door and let him have it.

"You rotten abuser! You filthy, no good, lower-than-a-sack-of-dirt worm of a man! How dare you insinuate that I'm crazy! You're the one who's crazy, coming in here like everything's all better now!"

"But Tifa, I have changed! I promise!"

"I'm not giving you a single chance, scumbag!"

"But I said 'I'm sorry!'"

"And I said 'Go away!'"

"Tifa...I noticed that you haven't filed for divorce yet. Are you going to?"

"God yes!"

"I'm not signing."

"If you don't sign them, I swear I'll hurt you!"

"...And then you'll be the abuser."

"GET OUT NOW!!!"

That's when I tried to punch him. Unfortunately, he saw it and ducked out of the way. Cloud Strife took off down the street, where he can stay for all I care. I'm certainly not chasing him.

______________________________________

And so I chased him. The problem was, he was nowhere to be seen. Still, I had a burning rage inside of me that wanted to hunt him down and do to him every file thing that he had done to me.

As I walked down the streets in pursuit of someone that I could not see, I balled hands up into fists. My blood starting pumping a mile a minute, and I suddenly felt like punching something.

I know I must have looked like the Bride of Frankenstein: such a beautiful body, but with hair that was frizzing in all different directions, and a demonic bloodlust stare in my eyes.

I started asking people on the street corners, "Where...is...Cloud?"
Nobody knew the answer.
Finally, there was a man by the gate of the town that shakily answering, "He, well, uh, he left town. He just took off, really quick."

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. All of my pent-up emotions felt is if they would pour out of me and endanger these innocent people, right in the middle of town. But of course, there was one place where I could get a bit of privacy...the place where his prissy-face former mistress grew up: The Chapel.

I swear, I must have levitated off of the ground as I headed to the church, because I know I didn't walk all that way. Maybe it's the adrenaline kicking in, but I don't remember walking. I just remember being there at the church. In theory, it was the worst place to unleash all of my anger. In actuality, it was a welcome mat for me.

I dashed up to the nearest bench and kicked it, as hard as I could. It wasn't bolted to the floor, so it went flying off into the corner. I ran to the front, where the flowers grew, and ripped out every precious daisy, rose, and tulip that Aeris had ever grown. Still, my fire wasn't quenched.

I picked up the old hymn books and tossed them across the church. Pages flew out of a lot of them, leaving a big mess of paper on the floor.

There was only one thing big enough for me to target that could quench the fire in me: The huge stained-glass window at the back of the Chapel.

I picked up another one of the hymnals and flung it as hard as I could through the expensive window. The glass shattered in the middle, and the mural now looked as if the Virgin Mary had been sliced, straight through the belly.

That's when I heard the idiot.

"You're still looking for me?"

"Do you value your life, Cloud?"

"Exactly. That's why I've brought the guards. It's illegal to vandalize a church. You should know that."

I spat in his face and muttered, "You're going to arrest me?"

"Of course."

The guards tried to restrain me, but they couldn't hold me for long. I just kept kicking and screaming for them to get off of me. Finally, they decided that it would take more than one person to take me down. In fact, it took three people to put the cuffs on me.

I do not think I am done with Cloud yet.

_______________________________________

I was born for this- A poem by Tifa Marie Lockheart

The feeling of holding off
unfriendly hands
as they try to restrain
sets my nerves firing.

To feel like an animal,
kicking and screaming,
"Let me go!
You won't take me down!"

The sense that I am
as strong as three men
floods my mind.
I was born for this.

I will die for this.