Veronica.

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I had never noticed as a child, but she was always there.

Veronica clasped me close, and held me in her stare.

Her fragile reflection pursued  me to the broken footsteps of my home. 

She was a beauty, lighting up the dark wherever she may roam. 

The spirit of a broken woman, somber at her time of death.

What an unfortunate demise, a child witnessing her dying breath.

Untimely and beautifully, she passed in front of me.

The walls were her hollowed home now, she was free.

I am adolescent now, I've matured so atrociously fast.

I am different, changed, and inwardly weary of the past.

My eyes recognize the pain of loss, filth, and disgrace.

I always thought  It was just the wrong time and place.

He took my innocence, my smile, and my clothes.

Mother disdained my need for her, she lies, but she knows.

I am a woman now, I am trapped within the demands of society.

My thoughts lay between the lines of insanity and propriety.

I wake in the morning to feel no embrace, what am I thinking?

We live in a small world, my odds of true happiness are truly shrinking.

One day she arrived in the middle of the night, unannounced and brilliant.

My broken soul reached up to take her in, suddenly resilient.

She sunk within the deepest depths of my withering mind and soul.

I was content, her ghostly arms salvaged me from the hole.

I fell asleep that night, as deeply as possible. I did not see morning. 

Death was unheralded, she was swift. She arrived without a warning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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