by MagicGirl_Helia » Thu Oct 03, 2013 3:16 pm
Breeze
"Yeah, I know what you mean." I said. "Some people just can't get along no matter what. People who try to make them get along are just asking for trouble." I sighed, remembering my father and how hard he had tried to convince himself that I hadn't inherited my mothers powers. He just wanted to keep me safe by pretending I was normal.
"And wouldn't it be nice to live together,
In the kind of world where we belong..."
They were never scared
of the kids who might die,
or the empty spaces
they would leave behind.
"They were afraid of us
The ones who lived."
"It is the fire.
The spark.
Black is the color of memory.
It is our color.
The only one they'll use
to tell our story."
“I used to dream
about turning back time,
about reclaiming
the things I'd lost
and the person I used to be.
But not anymore.”