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| Protector or destroyer? |
You hold me close to you and make me feel safe. Just when I sigh with content, I feel the sharp pain coming up through my back and into my heart. I look down to see the dagger in your hand dripping with my blood and I can only stand there for a moment in disbelief. I pull away, but you grab me and pull me back. You stand and watch me bleed for a moment and through my shock and surprise, I catch a glimpse of you with your conniving glare and your crooked smile of satisfaction before you pull me close, and then wrap your arms around me again and then clean the wounds that you have just inflicted. I struggle to get away, to push you away. I scratch you in my attempts to break free of your hold and you look at me like I have betrayed you because I have caused you pain. You push me away and you fall down to examine the tiny scratches and you cry and tell me how much pain I have caused you and I rush over to you and bandage your little shallow wounds and I apologize for hurting you, all while my blood is still soaking through my bandages and spilling onto the floor. You make a big deal about forgiving me and you let me know how much of an effort it is. Then you pull me to you and you just hold me with your strong arms. Even though I try to break free, you reassure me with soft touches, gentle and comforting, move over my hips, up my back and neck and into my hair. After fighting against you for a while, I slowly succumb to the gentleness and relax my body and fall into your embrace. I let my head drop into the nook between your neck and chest and again it feels right and safe and I sigh…. Then, as your soft touches move up my back, I feel your fingers dig deep into my still fresh wound. I cry out in pain and in shock, but you dig deeper with both hands and then you just pull me apart from the inside out. You rip me to pieces until there is nothing left of me. And now, as I look up at you from the bloody mess on the floor, you look so angelic. You look like the gentle protector again. Soft yet strong. But now in this light, I see scars on your body. Deep scars from wounds that I did not inflict. I do see, that so many of your old wounds are self-inflicted. But you say you want to fix them now. You want to be completely healed. You are standing there and watching over what’s left of me and waiting for me to help you. You want me to pick myself up and run to you and help you heal each scar but I’m still hurt and shattered and scattered all over the floor from your cruel doings. All I can do is stand guard over what's left of the pieces that were once my being, while I watch you with a very suspicious and scrutinizing eye, wondering what you will become next.
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Posted by halo_horns on 2009-10-02 16:21:24 | Rating: | Views: 18
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