she's swathed in a jacket that wraps around her, tighter than a noose. the fire catches on where her skin meets surface and suddenly, it's not just her she's fighting with. there are too many battles for her to win all of them. sometimes we forget. sometimes we try. many times, we fall. and you watch her stroll across the hallways, and you wouldn't even know how hard she's fighting even when she's losing. all you read is her aura. her fire, her desire – to win. and you're gasping, feeding on every breath of oxygen, while she begs her lungs to find reason to carry on, carry her forward. she's balancing off the bridge that floats above waves of fiery thoughts and words, that transform into flames. flames she's falling into, flames that swallow her whole. and you ask for her heart to stop beating when her soul is already in flames. the irony is that yours is the one that's been charred black.
"the weight of a simple human emotion weighs me down..."
☺ don't ☺ be ☺ sad ☺
yaaaas?
- dina xx
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