ONE MORE
The friends like dirt
Creep up and ruin
Rubbing all their filth on
The ring alert
Gusts of air blew in
Ran through labyrinth, gone
MAMA?
I've called her name and she won't answer.
I could call Darling and he would be at my side. Now, why didn't I create my better dear to the likeness of a woman? I did want him to be at my beck and call: only felt right for it to be in the image of a hound dog. And you know my darling, he'll drink through the water like a hound dog.
Knock, knock, knock.
Three knocks and a blast.
That's how the story goes of the girls taken by the evil wicked.
But they still only told the story of the Wicked Witch of the West.
Now see, I am Lydia Bennet here- bored and buzzing. Lydia ran off and bustled through town. With joy and naivety. And I'm here dreaming simplistically of an imagined half that is far beyond the character of all I've known, with a trusting that needs no key to open my heart. Three words and at last! But I ain't so foolish to go through that with him, the horrors you see on people's faces: the smirk when they smile, the chuckle they let out and the cough they force to cry. If Mr. does so come, he will not be my Darling, he will come as another. A man I never knew, whose trusting is so fallen and the lock needs to be undone.
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Another night, transformation scene going to place where mental horror starts!
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It's my story, let me tell it.
HEARTBEATS DON'T SHY FROM LOVE
E ran mi lowo
Always turning their faces and in turn their hearts away from me while snickering like I couldn't see. I was always dependent on them. I never had a space to grow myself, always surrounded and always inhibited. They were never good for me.
I was always left scarred when the end of a friendship came to be known in my eyes. They never seem to care or be bothered, I was always the hurting party, but you'll never hear them call me a victim, They can never symphathise with me. What's there to know aside from a foreigner? I was always left hurting. A perpetual foreigner in their eyes, no matter how many years. They'd never see me as one of them, and I could never let go of the connection we did indeed have that they so conveniently threw out of their brains when staring me down after my glory days were over. They'd never love me and their hearts never beat or move for me. They were never for me. They were never my people like my soul would call and treasure them. Aliens they were in my Universe. I had built houses in here on the scale of mansions and palaces for them and they would never give it a sight. They could never go beyond the façade of kid I had embraced on, and I was left feeling stuck and useless. I was left feeling in the wrong. A born mistake. A disease with no cure. An illness of no name.
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A foreigner in a foreign land went to a foreign school and lived among foreign people thought she would fit as all were foreign to it all as she was. She had forgotten they were not foreign in that school and were not foreign people among themselves. She was, only she was. She had forgotten the first thing she sighted when she walked in on a school day... "That they all look the same," she had wondered.
No foreigner remains foreign when they are surrounded by their people. I wish I was not the exception in that case. I was a foreigner in their eyes. I took on the persona of a kiddo because it kept me safe when I was younger and I carried it on, never changing. They restricted me to the length of my name: only knew the first and last, and they loved keeping it that way. They never got my grooving soul. I felt they moved to a different beat but I could never deny them of that groove and I thought at 4 that a foreigner is no foreigner to another. My version of your enemies' enemies is your friends.
I was kept silenced and stunted by their flippant comments and remarks and so I never could change or discover nor explore myself. I felt restricted to a pathway, this carried on 'til 12th grade; didn't even know or question what medicine was for me. I kept that kiddo persona because I never felt safe shedding my skin right in front of them. They did not know that. Of course, how could they? They were not for me. They were strange beings in my presence but I touched skins with them and thought i had become one of them because I now had their scent. Funny days.
Now, I've grown it's become the days I long for when back then all I did was run. The scars have healed and I laugh with the joy. Youth feels so fleeting when you're finally in control.