Stamped out from your heart is how you treat me
Do you care so little about us
About what we shared?
Instead you’re acting like we never met,
two lost little girls finding each other across the country
maybe something more?
but that doesn’t matter anymore since I’m wiped clean from your consciousness
What does that even mean, really?
Every enemy I have now used to be the closest to my heart
I could tell you about Evelin
Evilin, is how I think of her now
She was there for me until I needed her most
Then slithered under a rock and never resurfaced
I love being on the bus
I’ll go on when I have nowhere to go but away, just to see people
No, I don’t go to see people
I go to see their stories, and I go to be a part of them
All over the city, maybe the world
These people carry me in a back corner of their minds
And I know I exist
Staring into the smudged bathroom mirror, I feel a wave of shock pass over me- instead of the usual dreary face staring back at me, this girl looked alive, feral, like somebody who’d seen things. She had my features, but it was as though somebody else was looking out through my eyes. I stepped out with a new stride, determined to become her.
When I was a child, my brother lulled me to sleep with tales of a long-ago, half familiar land, and I sunk into dreams where I was both princess and knight. Those years of imagination and wonder are long past, and I only wish I were able to slip back into my old role as heroine.
I watch, hand in hand with her as the house goes up in flames. As the ancient structure collapses in on itself, she says nothing, only squeezes my hand tighter. Hours later, after the last spark dies out, she finally speaks- “Now, our life starts”