Part of the bleeding pages
Were ripped
Oh it felt like a fist twisting into my chest…
We made pact
It could be a scene in a movie
Or some face expression of a stranger that draws out the fragile within us, but me and her we made a pact.
We weren’t going to be old of age and bitter… We weren’t going to let them win.
The robbers… The cruelty of men, The ones that dine on cries and drink the tears of children.
The darker my kajol liner the red in her lip,
Would mean it was that kind of a day… Something or someone had come through the cracks and thus exposed the fragile One within us.
Here is
a wish to distract you from seeing The fragile within us. So be hang up on the dark in the kajol and the red in the lip.
She would get the ice cream and I the comedy…
We would laugh until we cry to sleep…
Part of the bleeding pages have burned off and we are ready to renew our pact.
” I promise I will fight bitterness fight hatred. This way we are The winners Despite
what is lost…”
From The archives – 008
