The True Warrior Isn't Immune

Love Can Transform Us. It Can Be A Healing Force Or A Disaster, A Tidal Wave, A Tornado. It Can Burn And Scar Us Or Heal Our Scars. It Can Be The Ghost That Haunts Us, Or The Best Friend Who Reads Our Every Thought. Love May Arrive Like An Angel Of Mercy, A Fairy With Raven Wings Or A Hairy Beast That Will Tear Us Apart Limb From Limb, Kill And Savor Us Down To The Bones.

She Had Changed Him. The Ice Was In His Eyes And In His Heart, Like He Had Predicted With That Song, But Now They Were Deep Embedded There, All The Pain Of The World. Not Pain To Make You Feel For Somebody Else But Pain To Make You Stop Feeling.

I Was Staring To Learn How To Forget The Things That Made Me Sad. It Was Like A Charm You Followed Step-by-step, Collecting And Blending The Ingredients, Placing Everything In Its Proper Place, Reciting The Incantation. It Was The Magic Of Forgetting.

But Be Careful; Sand Is Already Broken But Glass Breaks. The Shoes Are For Dancing, Not Running Away.

She Pushed The Gardener Away And Called For Them. In Her Sleep She Had Seen Love. It Was Poisoning. It Was Possessing. Devouring. Or It Was Seven Pairs Of Boots Climbing Up The Stairs To Find Her.