attempting to understand…
She was born perfectly beautiful. She was beaten and she was abused every step of the way, destructed by her own hand as well and yet, still, re-born even more perfect. She survived and thrived when she should not have even been alive.
I saw her; I knew her and I admired her. She was Venus. She was stubborn, she was scared, she was gifted. And she was love, protected safe in a petite body that was impenetrable.
And now, she is nothing more than a subject of my pity.
I have seen a lot of good people in my life go bad succumbing to peer pressure. I have seen the bottom-dwellers hunt, the vultures circle and I have seen their prey naïve, unaware and helpless. I might not be wise, but I am smart, and I see. Once again, I have seen…
Peck by peck, I watched each of them tear off her flesh, bits at a time. I saw that indestructible shield of hers get ravished from every angle, witnessed the slow massacre as I stood beside her as the lone soldier helping fight them off. Night after night, I heard her pleas of help, crying from her own lips, as she tried to fight each and every one of them. Each night I promised to never stop fighting. Each day, she promised me life, forever.
Little did I know that words, to her, sounded better than integrity. I understand now the trap I walked deeper and deeper into.
When a person desires to live under a blanket of self-loathing, no one can help pull him or her out. At that point, the only thing that can get through is the voracious, insecure trash who need that person to survive, who need to destroy in order to help stop their own self driven disgust. She was so determined to move on from her past that she walked full circle back into her tradition of mutilation. The only difference now being that there are no fresh physical scars for her to understand her new reality. Her wounds are now cloaked by the misplaced acceptance of the pack, bestowing upon them the encouragement to cut her deeper.
I believed in this lady more than I even believed in life itself.
And that lady is now gone, forever.
To share in love is bliss. To love someone, alone, is suicide.