the tears stinging the back of my eyes quickly dissipating. my question is where
does it all gothis frustrationand anger. I am to young to be a mother and yet I am
still not one I am but merely an age of comingand already I ucst protect my younger
sibling fro the crulety of the world I have seen so much more than most of my age I
've already been beaten down by this world and have not yet begun to live.The heart
that one lived in my chest is now gone. I have to feed off of others take their heart
but first I must kill it before I may have it. Every heart that is so unfourtunate as
to not head y warnings is branded with the thought of me. Love is a game of
misfourtune I am a dragon that noone has yet slain. Men are our knights I wonder
which will slay and rescue me from my tower.