Every time I reach my hand out, it drags a thousand shadows behind and before it.
Each action is undone as I do it. I can see my future behind me, and look forward to my past. Is there no way out of this?
Who is the sacrifice, this time? How many many times ? Is there no escape, again?
Breathe
Breathe
Accept what is and is not
Here is Time, a fractured toy stamped into the floor, pieces sprayed away. Stamped means a foot, that stamps. Who stamps, again, who breaks Time. Let's find out.
She stops, opens her eyes, looks up out of the page at the author and shakes her head. 'Dont be an idiot, it's the same one it always is, I know that much already'.
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