Slipping in between shifting moods or phases, do you recognize anymore? I guess, dehumanizing yourself throws you in better perspective of the countless valleys you inhabit. I shall narrate. The rest can sit on the sidelines for once. You don’t see much of me now do you? Good girl. I thought you would wonder where I had gone. Bad girl. Whisked away into a world you never liked or wanted far too fast; I worried. But, you adapted well. It almost made me proud. Almost.
I watched your transformation take form and boy did you take it up in full swing. Owing to the sidelines that you teeter tottered on, it must have felt exhilarating to fall off at last. See, not many people appreciate a good drop. It is heights that are craved, horizons that are crossed and skylines that are yearned for. You, darling, loathed the heights. And so you dropped. Had I said you fell from grace, I would be making a safe haven out of a hill on fire. I figured you’d shatter into a hundred slivers upon descent. I was right.
Do you see it yet? It’s not just you or her or her or her? It’s everyone. It’s everywhere. How you haven’t lost your way yet astounds me. Again, you make me a little proud of you. Blank.
But, you did forget about me, little one. You forgot the only one of the lot that kept your little feet balanced on that edge for so long. You could loathe me for it but you and I both know you’d have perished otherwise. Should I feel flattered at how I am back in your cross-hairs? Miss me?
You spent so long questioning him and his perceptions, fighting the weights tied around you, trying. How many times? How many years? I can only guess how you’ve stayed clean for so long. Oh, that’s right. You didn’t. My junkie darling. You were always far too intense to not dive right into the closest outlet. Rebel. Why do you succumb now?
Whose breath do you intend to whisk away this time? I apologize for losing count after the first twenty. Enchantress. I hold nothing but adoration for your suffering being. Whispering his words to yourself again? Is it you or is it her? Or her? Or her?
Wrap that pretty hand before you hurt it even more; too many bruises to count. Tie it down, pretty with a bow on top. Present. There’s a crowd. Was he right then? Is he right now?
Liar. I can hear your disapproval all the way till here. Question is, will you blame yourself? Or will you call that noose ‘Blame’ and wrap it around his feeble connector to life? Coward. Victim. Psycho. Who are you? Nameless. Shameless.