She is rising again,
From the very core of the earth.
She, who carried a knife with her
Much like an old man
Who saves the last bullet for himself.
She, who was betrayed by the world,
Like a hut in the woods abandoned by its people.
She, who is haunted by her own soul,
Like a child who refuses to let go of her doll.
She is rising again
She, whom I thought I killed and buried years ago.
I thought I had grown upon her grave,
Like a flower blooming in fertile soil.
Now she rises again.
I, who spent years believing I was not her,
Am the one sinking into her grave while she ascends.
We are reflections of the same view,
And now we sit together on this ancient floor
The place where we both sought to end each other.
In this battle between me and me,
The years spent in between lost.
🖤🤍