the one thing he taught me was to reach beyond my grasp, never satisfied, always yearning...
take a deep breath little girl, hold on just a little bit tighter; your little hands can barely fit around the rope that is holding it all together, we know, but just a little bit more, it's up to you.
in a whirlwind of fluttering thoughts, fabricated needs, and anticipated inabilities, she pictures the world as if she had just let go. Almost begging for an outside force to give her the strength to let go, and walk away; shame would be easier she thought. We only do what benefits us, in a world where heroism is a lie, and courage is merely self preservation, she draws into herself, grasps firmly with one hand, and reaches as far as her little bones and tendons allow with the other. tears are for another day, inabilites are an unafforded luxury, and asking for help was a failed attempt of joining the masses. The fluttering thoughts go into a box, a box that she only wishes she could lock, and focus resumes to the course ahead.
..in the back of her head she prays someone notices, but realizes that that is the sick truth of the falacy of martyrdom.
in a whirlwind of fluttering thoughts, fabricated needs, and anticipated inabilities, she pictures the world as if she had just let go. Almost begging for an outside force to give her the strength to let go, and walk away; shame would be easier she thought. We only do what benefits us, in a world where heroism is a lie, and courage is merely self preservation, she draws into herself, grasps firmly with one hand, and reaches as far as her little bones and tendons allow with the other. tears are for another day, inabilites are an unafforded luxury, and asking for help was a failed attempt of joining the masses. The fluttering thoughts go into a box, a box that she only wishes she could lock, and focus resumes to the course ahead.
..in the back of her head she prays someone notices, but realizes that that is the sick truth of the falacy of martyrdom.