- Joined
- Mar 31, 2015
When she logged off
She could feel their triggering posts run through her memory
As she descended into the darkness
Our faces, distorted by her anger, drifted into the night.
She was alone
Yet she could still feel us inside her
The feeling was comforting and familiar
But our presence scared her
She knew we were still there, watching her
Just out of the light, waiting.
She would find herself lashing out to others
Rending small pieces of them as revenge
These are the things she felt were important,
The things that made her significant.
She could feel their triggering posts run through her memory
As she descended into the darkness
Our faces, distorted by her anger, drifted into the night.
She was alone
Yet she could still feel us inside her
The feeling was comforting and familiar
But our presence scared her
She knew we were still there, watching her
Just out of the light, waiting.
She would find herself lashing out to others
Rending small pieces of them as revenge
These are the things she felt were important,
The things that made her significant.