• The Cracks Let All The Air Out

    by  • October 26, 2016 • * Safe for Work *, Waxing Poetic • 0 Comments

    The headmistress

    Glowing

    Loved

    Admired by all

    Loved by some

    Knew of her power, abused it, used it

    Pretended it didn’t matter, that all she could do was good

    That she preached and instilled character building lessons into youth

    She believed so greatly that she could do no harm

    That even when she blatantly did harm, she preached all were against her instead, and what a perfect individual she was

    She favored one

    A special one

    One unlike the others

    She forced her to do things that could’ve killed her

    She took advantage of her drunkenness

    She did so with her touch, called instruction when it wasn’t

    She did so with her eyes, called normal but drawing her in

    She did so with her words, a language not of common knowledge, a language of rare art

    She did so with her knowledge of the spiritual world

    She played a song, one she knew would pull the breath right from her lungs, forced her to dive when she knew she could not breathe alone

    Eventually she has had enough of this headmistresses’s abuse, and goes to tell the others, not caring what effect it has, for it must be done

    But she is resented for it

    Called a liar

    Chased into uncharted territory

    Unable to breathe

    Beat down

    Everyone realizing they had hurt her too much, their punches had grown too strong, they needed to find help to save her

    They all run to get the headmistress

    The girl lay breathless on the ground, her life force only inches away,

    And the woman could’ve saved her

    She could’ve

    She could’ve closed the cracks

    She could’ve put the air back in her lungs

    But instead, she looks down at her and smiles, a smile known only by the demented

    The girl reaches for her inhaler, needing it, dying before her eyes

    The woman holds her hand back and will not allow her to live

    She leaves the cracks open as all the air leaves her lungs

    She holds her close and says, “you really were not meant for this world,”

    But she was wrong

    What she wasn’t meant for

    Was that place

    In that environment of such danger

    The woman who only preached, only known to instill love and encouragement,

    Allowed her to die

    And the cracks never closed

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