The Way She Rose and Fell

She sitting attempting not the think about the past emotions, knowing that they’re still there. She thinks trying not to look back but the images keep pouring into her mind. She avoids everything to keep herself from falling, she attempts, to not shed any tears knowing they’re not worth it. To her knowing that if she shows some type of emotions towards the pictures in her mind that keeps building up she’s going to fall backwards, going to feel like she’s stuck living under a rock.

The same rock that put her into darkness, the same darkness that pushed her so far back to where she was not herself, the same darkness that trapped her to believe she was nothing but a grain of rice. That same rice that had been swallowed up, the ocean, the ocean that drowned her in fears, drowned her in pain, and disgust knowing she would never be able to show her face or true colors to those whom are attempting to fight til the end to find it.

She runs, she falls, she climbs, and she limps. Then again she feels she should throw herself back down the same cliff she pulled her worthless body up from. She feels that the more she falls off the cliff knowing the lower she’ll go is nothing lower that the sunken green color of a bruise print on her arm similar to the cut on her need and the stab wound in her stomach where she landed falling backwards with a glass stabbed through her stomach appears like it never happened.

Her broken bones are imaginary just like her injuries, but still they all seem real as results of how the pain rammed her like an eighteen wheeler crushing every part of her. Just the burn on her shoulder that’s never going to leave but only reappears when it burns in that same exact place. That burn that never will let her go, and only shows when its filled with the burning sensation. ¬†You ask me if I have ever felt death look me straight in the eye and with its cold air blowing on me, and I say no to holding back any movement to put me in that exact same spot I had been left with what’s left of my crushed guts.

When I saw her fall to the ground, I wanted to help her get up and tell her everything was okay. But I couldn’t talk to her, I couldn’t be that guardian angel she needed. As I was forced back to stand her watch her go through the pain that she had to be put through all the stab wounds and rip outs of blood running down her body. I was held back to watch her collapse to the floor and her soul rise up to the heavens as her innocents of anything was ripped out of her, as she was put to emotional death on the same very ground I stood, but couldn’t move. When she collapsed, I became soulless because that person is me.