71 lines
1.2 KiB
Text
71 lines
1.2 KiB
Text
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Algingu
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2023-02-16
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***
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The need
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for protection
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is ongoing,
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a project
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not yet
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finished.
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I still have my jar
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under my bed.
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It would protect
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me, you said,
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whenever I slept.
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But it's failed at least twice
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when charge has
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ran
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out,
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when hands around my throat
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choke
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out your name.
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And it was too late
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when you finally came,
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when the Veil relented:
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the harm had been sent.
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His hair was blackened, fading to blue,
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smile poised on lips, pouring out a tune.
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I had thought he looked kinda like you,
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a version from a happier timeline
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where nobody had thought to snuff out your light.
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"To think I had thought to make sacrifice
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because he had helped me a handful of times
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when there was a trinket I had left behind."
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*Thank you so much!
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Now can you retrieve
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the sense of safety
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you ripped out from me?*
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His hands were so soft
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as he cut my breath off.
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"Name your price,
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you violating piece of shit.
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What do you want?
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How did my life become
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any of your goddamn business?
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Did you think this was the price
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for the so-called help you rendered?"
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When you ask why
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I'm afraid
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to step outside
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our mountain in Sablade,
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remember how bloody I was when you came.
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Your icy fingers
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wrap a bandage
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over the ravaged
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skin so tender.
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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