Portions of my life have been filled with torture.
I’ve never let that determine the amount of happiness
I could feel. That has always been up to me, even in the
darkest of times. Even when my happiness was the source
of desire to be owned; as a human filled with evil stirs
their mental pot trying in every way to destroy this light,
knowing the child will eventually surpass anything
they ever were, or tried to be, and the mornings filled with
sunshine escapes their greed; waiting is the damp dark empty
coffin which they constantly watch in their mind’s eye,
just for them, every very single day.
I apologize for the darkness. It’s connected to the phone call. It’s gotta come on our somehow.
Shaking his face at his door, the boy screamed a terrible scream deep within his heart; with a crushing idiom only memories speak with. Please, no. Footsteps. The door knob turns. It’s nighttime. He opens his window, and lashes the darkness with his legs. They’ll never know me again. I was never home. -A lightning bug flashed. I see you. I’m coming.
-a strangeness followed him deep into the woods. he wished it was fully dark. he wanted the thickness of its empty comfort. the moon however dispersed nighttime light onto every shadow. he sat on a stump and tried to watch his thoughts. “what do you do with your thoughts?” he asked a tree. the tree replied, “as soon as you have one, it is alive. it’s never again going to not be. you’ve born possible greatness. give your thoughts life and watch them be.”