The Child Inside
Tears run down your fragile face, forming streaks of pale white in the crimson blood caked on your soft skin. Your blonde hair hangs in your eyes, stained brown from the blood that you have shed in your selfish pursuit of hope. Your body trembles with surprising force, looking as if it might shatter as your sobs and screams echo off the blackened walls. Your tiny fingers wrap around a flame, a candle of hope that casts little light on this cold and empty world, on these empty, shattered dreams. Your screams force the walls to tremble with fright, the most secure of hearts to shatter, the strongest mind to bend and cry openly for you. You are curled in a darkened corner, rocking slowly back and forth, crying, bleeding, and shaking, a child left alone and crying in this heartless world. Written March 22nd, 2002 © on Mar 22 2002 01:48 PM PST 18 • 0 • 10
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"Tears run down your fragile face,..."