I carried her down the stairs
Her
soft
long
black hair
tickled my face
Her limp body dangled and made me unsteady
in my steps
She was young
and
quite petite
Free
and
beautiful
I imagined her lips smiling
I imagined just a few years back
when she was
so simply
a little girl
Now a woman
Now fighting the world
So much pressure
So much life....
I hope
that
next time
she tries to commit
suicide
she fails
3 comments:
Your words hit me like a sledgehammer!
I hope so too.
It is a hard and bitter reality... for both of you on the stairs.
Sad her pain was in such surplus that she had to give some of it to you, as well.
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