Still severed from her gifts—
it was the only way to protect them.
She’s willing to let the monsters have them now.
She knows she can’t save them anymore.
She’s not worthy.
The hate riddled her bones with doubt.
She’s the curse condemning her to heaven’s gallows.
Sometimes when she needs to remember,
they flood her brain.
She sometimes remembers everything.
She sometimes can’t stop thinking about it.
She sits at the edge of her bed, wondering if she’ll press down again.
The blood brings her back.
She wishes something else would.
Everything feels like a dream when she’s lost at sea.
The girl who falls out of time.
The girl who fell from love.
Sometimes she wonders if she will lead the monsters to moonlit coves illuminated by lantern bugs.
Her gifts lie here asleep.
She’s tired of fighting shadows.
Maybe this is the only way to save herself.
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