good intentions

her fingertips falter across the seams of her past. the soft carress strikes chords of melancholy sadness intangled within her will, the desire fades, only to peak again as the reality of it  rips through her.

my mind looks to the canvas, blank, empty, devoid of meaning…i cannot do this, i cannot believe in this. as i reach out, not knowing what i could even pretend to be reaching for, i still stretch my hands before my eyes grasping at the thin air.

their thoughts run through my world, hold on to my memories, and pierce my will with the urge to give in. it is a million to one and the odds are against me, they are against us all, and it makes no difference whether i find it easy to believe or easy to ignore. negotiation is not an option anymore…the words have failed once more…nothing to say without saying too much.

the image encompasses, surrounds her flesh as each hair stands to full attention, and she only feels the rope tightening around her neck. quick and painless, quick and meaningless, only human…being what? she turns away from the image, the disaster, the lie invading her consciousness. the sensation is warm, intoxicating, overpowering…a memory nonetheless sweet upon her lips.

she wears the mask, wheres the charade, pulls at the strings swaying her heart, making her dance…she has always wanted to dance, graceful and poised, enthralling. she carries the dagger, clean of her back now, a reminder of how the wound still burns….

nothing to say……….