The teardrop stood still as I heard;
Remembering all the times I actually cared for selfish ramblings of a child that never really grew.
Asking what to do? As the hurt felt so new, different, kinda like it were opium seeping through the veins of another new addict, totally oblivious of the perils to come in the form of deletion of feeling...
But I had felt it before...why was this alien? Why did my blood go cold? Why did that split second hold my life in the balance? Wasn't she the dress thief in the hidden coral reef of my past that I hailed as "Cara" because I saw her for what she painted-Spring's bidding new leaf? My hearts little dress thief...
But the relief is in knowing that no one will eat our harvest for us bt we, the planter. I say we because a blue blooded maiden has decided to leave the picture of poppies where it belongs...Seeping into the sands of time ravaged by Neptune's salt water of Justice.
I pause for redress...Forever...
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