(no subject)
Climbing a mountian without any limbs because she said I could. When her voice no longer had my soul, my body all to slow. I could not catch myself, like a rock I fall. Left in a shadow of the valley. His presence, usually a stream of horrid tales gone by and guts twisting, now with my own blade from the days I were a knight drop me to my knees. Under I go like quicksand, not a breathe to take. An echo from afar, I fly not from entraptment to freedom but from a torture with reason to a pleasure that tortures without. Straight through my red cape and blue tights, shot from behind. Kryptonite in my knee, falling, falling. Again her voice, must fly, need to fly, not for her but for me. To help is to live, to sit is to decay. In my self created prison of despair. A mirror on the wall that never can show who they say I am. He is my mirror, I am four years old again hiding in a closet. Found! I fly to the wall, down the steps too fast. Step, step, step, step, step, step, thirteen, never shall my body skip a step. Again I take flight, a cage, trapped. Prison bars close in, the smell of shit grows strong. Suddenly a man, I can escape, I can fight. His presence a stream of horrid tales gone by and guts twisting, now with my own blade from the days I thought I was a knight drop me to my knees. Under I go like quicksand, not a breathe to take. Waiting for an echo, waiting for a reason to call upon the strength from when I was a knight, from when I was superman.