Fairies : Sword (Part 2)

Mystica looked across the clearing, by the edge of the lake. The boy was standing there. Looking at his reflection in the water. It had been nearly two weeks since Mystica and Scream had rescued him from the village by the sea. Where he had been whipped nearly to death. His body was fully healed. Mystica had seen to that, using her White Magic to heal his physical wounds.

Her White Magic could not, however, heal the wounds within his heart and soul. The only things that could heal those were time, and the boy himself.

The boy had no name. At least, not yet, anyway. He’d refused to say his name at any time. When Rose and Fauna had asked him his name, he’d told them he didn’t have a name.

Musica was doing the best she could. Writing new songs, and new music for him every day. Always singing, and playing where he could hear her. And Mystica could tell that the music was something he needed. She’d even seen him look into the water of the lake while Musica played. And she’d see the tears he’d cried.

Dream watched Mystica. She could tell that Mystica was very much concerned for the boy. So, Dream spoke with Sunshine that day. She pulled Sunshine into the edge of the woods. “Our boy is very hurt, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Dream. He is.” Sunshine looked sad. Which explained the grey color of the sky, and the clouds on that day. “I wish there was something we could do to help him. To show him we’re his friends. And that he’s not alone again. And that we’ll never hurt him.”

Dream smiled. “I know! I have an idea!” She put a hand on Sunshine’s shoulder. “Why don’t you smile for a while. I’ll have to give you a reason to. I know. You are you. And you can’t turn your smile on and off.”

“You like him, don’t you, Dream?”


Sunshine smiled. “You like our boy.” Dream blushed. Her cheeks turned bright pink. And she could feel the heat in her shoulders. Sunshine just smiled even more. “You like our boy.” Then she said to Dream, “That makes me happy. That makes me smile.”

Dream smiled to. And the heat in her shoulders started to fade away. As did the pink in her cheeks. “Yes. I like him. He’s cute.”

Sunshine said, “I’ll smile more now. I like thinking how you like him.” Then she looked at Dream, “I like him too, you know. But he’s so sad. So hurt.”

Dream could see Sunshine’s smile start to fade. So she decided to tell Sunshine the rest of her plan. “I’m going to speak with Momma. I’m going to ask Momma if I can walk in our boy’s dreams. And see if there’s something there that he’s afraid of. Something there that’s hurting him.”

At that, Sunshine’s smile grew strong once more. And it remained strong through the rest of the day.

Mystica walked up to the boy. Standing by the lake. She reached out a hand, and touched his shoulder. He didn’t stop her. “There’s something I wish to show you,” she said. He didn’t move. He just stood there. Looking into the water of the lake. So, Mystica continued on. She looked at the water of the lake, and she spoke to it, calling the White Magic. “Show me the ocean.”

The mirror like surface of the lake shifted, white shapes taking form on it. Until the image of a strip of sand appeared. Next to that enormous body of water. That body of water that had such huge waves near the shore. Mystica knew it as the ocean. She knew it was surf. But she’d never seen it in her life. Until she’d gone to the village by the ocean, and rescued the boy.

She left the image of the ocean’s shore on the lake. Her hand resting on the boy’s shoulder. While he watched. “Your home is there, isn’t it?” The boy said nothing. But Mystica couldn’t help but see the longing look in his eyes. “By the ocean. That’s where your home is, isn’t it?”

The boy spoke. For the first time in days. “No.” Mystica was surprised. “Not by.” The boy turned and looked at Mystica. “In.”

“In?” Mystica was somewhat surprised. She’d never known anyone to live in the sea. “You live in the sea?”

The boy had looked at Mystica. Right into her eyes. “Yes.”

Before Mystica could respond, the boy had spread his wings, and taken flight over the lake. Just above the surface of the water. He flew rapidly to the center of the lake. And then, he dove. Straight down.

Mystica followed him. She called on the White Magic to encase her. And protect her. And it did. Keeping her safe, as she dove beneath the surface of the lake. And followed the boy, all the way to the bottom of the lake. Maybe 15 or 20 feet deep.

It was there that she saw the boy, walking along the bottom. Perfectly at ease underneath the water. Perfectly at home. He walked there. Looking at the rocks. At the mud. And the solid ground. Looking at the fish that swam. As if it was all something he’d done all his life.

Then, the boy stopped, and looked at Mystica. And he spoke. Underwater. “I belong in the sea. I want to go home.”

Mystica couldn’t speak under the water. The boy seemed to know that. So, he pushed off the bottom, and returned to the surface of the lake. Stretching his wings out, and taking flight once more. Mystica following. They both returned to the clearing. By the edge of the lake. “I want to go home,” the boy repeated.

Mystica finished his sentence for him. “To the sea.”


Mystica thought for a moment. Then looked around the clearing, at her adopted daughters. Musica, Dream, Rose, Sunshine and Fauna. And she smiled. “I somehow think my daughters would like to see the ocean.”

She turned to the boy, and said. “We’ll start the trip in the morning.” Then she smiled at him, “And thank you, for letting me know where you come from.”

Later that day, just before the sun set, Dream called for Mystica, “Momma! Momma! I would like to talk with you!” Mystica had used her wings, and slowly flown across the lake. It was hard for her to fly. She’d injured that wing in her battle with the wolves years ago. And it had never healed quite right. She could still fly. But only slowly. And only with a lot of effort. And only for short distances.

She landed, softly, on the grass next to Dream. “Momma. I have to ask you something. But it’s a secret.” So, Mystica had crouched down, on her knees, so Dream could whisper in her ear. “I want to visit the boy’s dreams. I want to see what kind of dreams he has. So I can try to help him.”

Mystica was surprised, to say the least. Dream was certainly growing up quickly. And sometimes, Mystica was afraid that Dream’s curiosity would get the better of her. So, she closed her eyes, and asked the White Magic for guidance. And the White Magic showed her nothing. All she heard was a single thought. “Follow your heart.”

Mystica’s heart told her to let Dream try. Told her how much she loved Dream. As if Dream were a true daughter. Told her that Dream would be OK. And that Dream was going to try anyway. Even if Mystica told her not to.

“Yes, Dream. You can try. But please know that I’ll always be where you can find me, if you should need me.”

When the sun set that night, the boy settled in for one last night on the ground. He always slept by the edge of the lake. On the grass. Where he could hear the sounds of the water of the rivers that flowed into and out of the lake.

That night, Dream waited until the boy was asleep. And then she walked across the grass. Settling on the ground next to him. And she reached out a hand for the first time in her life. And put it on the boys cheek. And said one single word. “Dream.”

Dream was walking along the bottom of the ocean. There were all kinds of strange fish, and plants that she’d never seen. But the boy knew them all. And as she watched him in his dream, she heard him cry, “Mother! Mother! Where are you! Help me! Please help me!”

She watched him as he closed his eyes in his dreams that night. And dreamed of his mother. Slowly, as Dream watched, a figure started to take shape. A full grown fairy. And not just any fairy. This fairy had a crown upon her head. And a trident that she carried. She had a regal air. And Dream could tell that she ruled the ocean. That the fish, the plants, and all the creatures of the sea, recognized her. And knew her. As their queen.

The boy’s dreams continued on. And she saw him swimming. She was swimming right along with him. She never saw the net. Neither did he. He ran head first into it. And got tangled up. The net twisted around him. Trapping his arms. His legs. His wings.

And the net got pulled up. Up, and out of the water. As it did, the boy was exposed to the sky. She knew he’d never seen the sky. The sun. The clouds. The boy was absolutely terrified. Frozen by fear.

The net dropped, landing on the deck of a boat. With a hard thud. Dream felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Something started to untangle the net. And Dream realized it was humans. Several of them. And when they saw the boy, the leaped on him. Pinning him down. Trapping him on the boat.

That’s when the boy had called on fairy magic. Fairy magic his mother had taught him. He’d flexed his wrist. Like he was holding a short sword. And that invisible sword of fairy magic had sliced into the arms of one of the humans. Drawing blood. As if a real sword had been drawn.

The other humans had backed away. The boy standing in the midst of them. Swinging his arms. Running at his captors. Trying to get to the water once again. It only took a few seconds for one of the humans to get behind him. And hit him over the head with a wooden pole. And then, the boy collapsed. Unconscious. On the deck of the boat.

Only to wake up in a prison cell. His arms bound by chains. His feet chained to the floor. Two men guarding him. Each with a bow and arrows. He knew there was nothing he could do. That they were out of his reach. That they could shoot him with the arrows.

He knew he was doomed.

Dream knew the rest of the story. The circle in the village. The whips. The pain. The hurt. Being left to slowly die on the sand. The arrival of Scream. Then the arrival of Mystica.

Dream quietly pulled her hand away from the boy’s cheek. She stood up. And walked away. Quietly. Mystica was waiting outside Dream’s little home in the trees. “Good. You are OK.”

All that Dream would do was say, “I know his name.”

She looked at Mystica. “I know his name. His name is Sword.”

Mystica had held dream for a while. Dream had been through a lot that night. The first night she’d ever walked within another’s dreams. And it had been a big test of her self. Her confidence. Her control. She’d told Mystica everything. Everything she’d seen in Sword’s dreams. And she’d cried herself to sleep that night.

Like the 6 year old girl that she really was.

Turn Right And Take Two Steps.

[ Author’s Note : Here, I borrow the words of Maggie Mae. If you are sensitive to the topic of suicide please use caution if you decide to read this! ]

I lost count of the mornings
That I walked along the sidewalk
Looking toward the cars
Of normal people.
As they raced to work.
In their jobs.
In their normal lives.
Knowing none of them
Saw me at all.

Knowing none of them knew.
I was one
Of the walking dead.
That everything I’d been.
Everything I’d known.
Everything I’d cared about.
For 30 years.
Was gone.

Taken from me.
Ripped away.
By no one.
By an illness.
That had no name.
An illness
None of them
None of them
Wanted to understand.

Was my companion
On those walks.
Fueling fear
That nothing would ever
Be the same.
That I would never
Be whole again.

I lost count
Of the days I watched the cars.
And the trucks.
With the faces of the people
Inside them.
Putting on makeup.
Screaming at someone
On the phone.
Singing the words
To a song.

As they raced to work.
For another day
Of being normal.
Of being OK.

While I walked along.
Unable to escape
The reality
Of being broken.
In some way.

I lost count of the days
I wished I could just say, “Hi!”
To any one of them.
Even though I’d never met them
In my life.
That I could find someone
That would smile.
That would talk
With me.

But it never happened.

I walked alone.
Along  the sidewalk.
Every morning.
My only companion.
By my side.
Whispering in my ear.
Telling me
I could end the hurt.
And end the pain.
That I felt
With ever step I took.
With every breath
In those days.

When I walked along the sidewalk,
Watching other people
Go to work.

Depression whispered
In my ear.
Day after day.
“Wait for a truck.
With 18 wheels.
Then turn to the right.
And take two steps.
That’s all it will take.
And you’ll be free.
The pain
Will go away.”

May  you never understand
The words I write today.
May you never hear the whisper
Of depression
In your ear.

It would have been so easy
To listen to the words
Depression spoke to me
Every single day.

“Turn to the right.
And take two steps.
And all the pain
Will just go away.”

I’m still here.
Because I knew then.
As I’ve always know.
My pain might go away
If I surrender.
And end the pain
I live with.

But depression has no answer
To the question I asked it.
As I walked along.
Watching people go to work.
On so many days.

“Why would I do that?
And hurt so very much
My Lady?
And my children?
And the few people
That I call my friends?
Knowing all along
That I can make it through
The pain that I am in?
Why would I give up?
Why would I
Hurt them?”

It would have been
So very easy
To have gained sweet release
From the hurt.
And from the pain.

All I had to do
Was turn to the right.
And take two steps.

And I’d have never hurt

Hiding In Plain Sight

I was speaking
With a group of people
That I once worked with.
Of course,
They all remembered
How I’d left
The job I had
With them.

Among them were a few
Of the people
That I call my friends.
We were all talking
About our lives.

That’s when
My old friend Bob
Said something
That really pissed me off.

Bob asked me
Where I worked.
And I’d answered him
Very honestly.

“Right now,
I work at Best Buy.
A member of
The Geek Squad.”

And Bob,
Being who he was,
And being normal,
I supposed,
Couldn‘t help but ask
That nasty question
I‘d been asked
1000 times before.

“Why do you work there?”

I’m sure that everyone
In the group that day
Saw the flash of anger
In my eyes,
And on my face.

I’m also sure
The only thing they saw
Was a flash.
Anger that was there,
For a heart beat.
Maybe two.
And then was gone.

What the didn’t know,
And couldn’t see
Was the reaction that had happened
Inside of me.

Nor could they have heard
The echo of the words
That Jesus the Christ
Had spoken
While dying
On that cross.

“Forgive them.
They don’t know at all
What they’re doing.”

My mind raced.
Running once again
Through a million thoughts
At once.
Through memories
Of things that I’d gone through.
That no one in that group
Would ever understand.
The perspective that I had
That was far outside the walls
Of the tiny world
They all lived within.

It only took a second
Of real world time
Until my answer came.
“Because it suits me,
And where I am,
In my life right now.”

Bob, being Bob,
And blind to anything
That he didn’t understand.
So boxed into his world,
That he couldn’t comprehend
Anything beyond the walls
Of his own beliefs,
And dreams,
And ways of doing things.
Bob had responded.

You’re so much better
That that.
You shouldn’t be
Working at Best Buy.
It’s beneath you.
You supposed to work
At a job
That uses your skills.
One that pays you
What you’re really worth.”

You should have heard
The quiet whispers
Race throughout the room.
Each person there
Confirming with the other
That what Bob had declared
Was absolutely true.
Heads nodding their agreement,
As they all looked at me,
With a look that screamed out loud,
“It’s so sad
To see you reduced
To this.”

I swear,
I felt that if I could,
I’d get a great big truck.
And run over all of them.
For not a single one of them
Had a clue at all
Of how they lived.
And the things they did.

I asked,
“Why, Bob?
Why is my job
Beneath me?”

That was when Bob stopped,
With no answer to give,
So Becky answered for him,
“You know why!
You know it is!”

And there it was again.
That same damned answer
That I’d heard
My entire life.
Just one single word.
With no explanation.
No reason.
At all.
Just the assumption
That I understood
How things really were.
How they were
Supposed to be.

Being who I am,
And having stepped
Far outside the walls
Of the tiny world
They all lived within,
I couldn’t help
But answer them.

“Because people like me
Don’t work at Best Buy,

Every head was nodding
In agreement
With that declaration.

“Because only useless people,
That can’t get a real job,
One that pays real money.
One that is respectable.
That shows their social status,
And their social worth.
Their ranking in this world.
Work at Best Buy?”

That was when
I let my anger show.
“That’s pretty damn close
To the most outrageous thing
That I’ve ever heard.”

I glared at all of them.

“Are you telling me
That the people I work with
Are not as good as you?
That you’re more valuable
Than they are?
More important?
Just because you have a job
That pays you so much money
That you can buy
Damn near anything
That you want to?”

I looked each of them
Smack in their eyes.
Letting my anger
Burn everything I saw
In their hearts
And souls.

“Are you saying
That it’s sad
To see the way I’ve fallen.
As if I’ve become someone
Less than I once was.
As if I’m now someone
That’s beneath all of you.
Because I work
In the job I do?”

I stood up.
And they all knew
I would be walking out
In another moment,
Or perhaps two.

“I take it none of you
Has a fucking clue
How prejudiced you are,
With such a biased view
Of life?”

I turned at started walking
toward the door.
Everyone there knew
I was leaving.
And that perhaps
I’d never talk with them

But as I headed
For the door,
I couldn’t help but take
A parting shot
At those within the room
That had such frozen hearts,
And stone deaf ears,
And eyes that no longer saw anything
Except what they wanted to.

“Just another case
Of prejudice
Hiding in plain sight.”

Since that day
I have not spoken
With any of those people.

And I never will

Not Inch By Inch

I’m celebrating. Seems I got an Honorable Mention on the #ThursdayThreads for this little piece. Honestly, I have no idea where this idea came from. It just happened. I’m echoing it here. And putting in a plug for the winner, and the other honorable mentions.

Winner : Nicole Wolverton | @nicolewolverton

Honorable Mentions :

Cara Michaels | @caramichaels

Jeffrey Hollar | @Klingorengi

Of course, all the entries in the #ThursdayThreads are good. I like seeing people try something different. And have the courage to actually put their words out there in public where they can be seen. You are all great, in my view.

And… Here’s what I wrote… All 246 words of it…



Not Inch By Inch

December 22, 2012. The day after. No one knew the body count or the extent of the damage. The world had ended.

Tom sat at his computer. A desktop. With a 32“ monitor. Somehow, the Internet was still there. Perhaps it was true that the ‘Net couldn’t be crashed.”

He was on Facebook, wondering how it was still around. He was lucky. His house survived. He was using wind power. He’d figured having a wind generator would come in handy someday. None of his friends was on. He wondered if they were dead, or just powerless.

Earlier, he’d read the note his buddy Steve had posted. Steve had titled it “Prophecy”, and linked several other notes to it. He called these “The Texts” and said he’d write them in the world’s last days. Tom read, starting with the prophecy. Then with December 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, and 21st. He read the texts and the prophecy.

Steve had known the world would end. He’d traveled to the coast. To the ocean. And watched the world end. Watched the tsunami come in. His last words being “Wow! What a ride!”, Then he’d died.

Tom thought Steve was the lucky one. He’d died all at once. That’s why Tom went outside. And jumped into one of the chasms that had formed in his neighborhood.

“Better to go all at once, than inch by inch.”

Cara Michaels | @caramichaels

I Love My Friends

Today, my doctor asked me
A question that he’s asked before.
“Did you love her?”

I’ve never taken the time
To actually answer him.
Until today.

“Define love.”
That’s how my answer started.
“Did I love Gina?
If I say I loved Gina,
Then I have to say
I loved Judy too.”

My doctor just smiled.
Because I know
He understood.
He’s been working with me
For over 18 months.
He better have a clue
To how I work
By now.

I once loved Gina.
But it would seem
No one understood at all
What the heck I meant
When I said that.

Especially her.

I loved Gina.
I loved Judy to.
And there are people
That I love now.

Unlike a neurotypical.
I can say the words.
If I decide to.
Because for me,
It’s just a decision.
Yes or no?
Say the words?
Yes or no?

None of that social crap
Gets in the fucking way.
That shit does not exist
To me.

You know.
Sometimes it really ticks me off
The way people behave
As if I understand the world
The same way they do.
As if they can apply
The same rules,
And guidelines,
That they apply to everyone
To me.

I told that to my doctor too.
We talked a bit about
How I never do,
And have never done,
Anything the way
That I’m supposed to.

Do you know how many times
I’ve had people look at me,
As if I was the stupidest person
On the face of the Earth.
What the fuck did you do now?
Jesus Christ!
You know damn well
Not to do that!”

But they never tell me what I did.
Or why what I did
Was wrong.
They just assume I know.

There’s a reason
The word ass
Is in the word assume,
You know.

These same people
Have also said to me,
“I wish I had the guts
To do what you just did.”

What guts?
What I did
Didn’t take any courage
On my part
At all.
It was just damn
Common Sense!

Did I love Gina?
I did.
And I’m so very disappointed
At how she behaved
When she learned I did.

But, you see.
Gina’s not the only friend
That I have ever loved.
There have been
A few of them.

Like Deb.
And Lynne.
And Kathryn too.

And there are several now.
Like two friends
From way back in high school,
And Penny too.

And then there’s Denise.
We’ve been friends damn near forever.
And she’s gotta know by now
That she’s a beloved friend.

This is what I just don’t get.
What I don’t understand.

You love your friends,
Don’t you?
There’s nothing wrong with that,
Is there?
It’s how thing ought to be,
Isn’t it?

It’s not like there’s something
Wrong with me,
Just because I love my friends.

What’s wrong,
I find,
Is how so many people
Have become so terrified
Of such a simple thing.

How did the word love
Come to mean,
“I’m going to sleep with her,
And she’ll be mine.
Or I’ll kill everyone.”

And you people think
That I’m fucking nuts.
Or do you really think
That you can say to me,
And speak honestly,
“If my friend were to get hit by a truck
On Monday morning,
And be dead and gone
Forever more.
I’d still come to work.”

I wouldn’t.
My heart would ache
Within my chest.
And my soul would shed at least
10,000 tears of pain.
At the simple truth
That I would never hear
That person’s voice again.
That throughout my days
I would never more receive
The gift of that person’s smile.
That I would never again see
The magic that I saw
In that person’s eyes.

Did I love Gina?
Hell yes.
And she wasn’t
The only person that I loved
In the life that was.

That’s something I had right.
In the life I that was.
That’s something
I’m not changing.
Because I’ve learned
Not to fear
The simple truth
That I love my friends.

You deny it all you want.
Lie to yourself.
And to your friends.
For there is another
Simple truth
That I know of.

You love your friends too.
You  just let your fears
Tell you what to do.
And hide from the truth
Every single day.

And you wonder
Why it is
That I don’t listen to you
Any more.

Thank God in Heaven up above
That I’m not like you.


I feel pressured.
As if I’m supposed to be
Doing something.
At a job.
That pays me what I’m worth.

But then,
I stop and think.
What the heck
Am I worth?

I feel pressured.
As if I’m supposed to be
Doing something.
Making a plan.
With target dates.
So that I have my life
All planned out.
And know
What I’ll be doing.
Where I’ll be
A year from now.
Two years.
Five years.
Even ten.

But then,
I stop and think.
What the heck
Do I want to do?

I know My Lady
Is frustrated.
With me.
She’s told me that.

She’s also told me
That she understands
How badly I was hurt.
And how long that it takes
To recover,
And to heal,
From injuries
Like the ones I had.

But still.
I feel pressured.

One of my doctors,
Bless his soul,
Keeps trying everything he can
To get me back in motion.
To return me
To a life
Like everyone else leads.

With a job.
And responsibilities.
Chasing the
American Dream.

I try so very hard
To have patience.
To let everyone say
What they want to say.
And make them happy
In some way.


In the end.
I have to face
The person in the mirror
Every day.

When will I pick up
The pieces of my life?
And become what everyone
Thinks that I should be?

I won’t.

I’ve decided to take the time
To find me.
That person that I lost
So many years ago.
The one that got buried
Under all the demands.
The responsibilities.
The one that I could not afford
To have.
To be.
To let exist.

That would have gotten in the way
Of me being able
To be
What everyone else
And needed.
Me to be.

I want to know.
Who I am.
What I believe.
What I feel.
What I think.
What I want.

Because I don’t.
And I never have.

And I know
From the pain
That I’ve been through.

That being
What I believe
Someone else needs me to be.
Someone else wants me to be.

Leads down a long

Of self-destruction.

I won’t walk that path
No matter how many times
You ask me.

I will come back to life.
On my own terms.
In my own time.
At my own pace.
In my own way.

Because I know this truth.
That I learned
The hard
And painful

I can’t be
What you want me
To be.

I have to be

Heartless Bastard

There are times,
And I’m certain of it,
That people declared to me
That I’m heartless.
That I don’t have the feelings
That they do.

Those people
Don’t understand
At all.

I’m not heartless.
I have proven that
Time and time again.

Would a heartless person
Sit here on the sofa in his home,
Wishing he could take away
The pain his son feels on this day
When she broke up with him?

Would a heartless person
Take pictures
Of his Eeyore collection,
And share them,
With someone he’s never seen,
Except in pictures
On Facebook,
In an effort
To give a smile to her?

Would a heartless person
Capture dreams and wishes,
And bring them to life
On the words of these pages
In the hope that somehow,
And someway,
It would help one of his friends
Find a moment’s peace,
Or a moment’s happiness,
On an awful day?

Would I have done
The things I did
In 2010,
When I set aside my fear,
And took up my pen,
And wrote something
Just for a friend
That was facing cancer,
Because the battle she was facing
Caused my heart to ache,
And my soul’s tears
To fall once more?

Would I have
Set aside the time
Every workday of the week
To find something funny
I could send
To a friend I worked with,
As she battled with the demon
That depression is,
Because I wanted her to know
That someone in that place
Truly cared for her?

Oh, yeah.
I’m a heartless bastard.
And I don’t care at all
For anyone
But me.

I shared a dream I had
One time.
Of what I would do
If a friend of mine
That I worked with
Ever passed beyond
The veil of life
While we still worked together.

The story of a man,
With a heart and soul,
That lost a friend.
And found a way
To remember her.
Placing one peach colored rose
Upon what had once been her desk
Every Monday morning.
When all the other people
That had worked with her
Carried on,
Day after day,
As if she’d never even
Been a part
Of their workplace.

But he remembered her.
Because she had been
His friend.

Oh, yeah.
I’m heartless.
Through and through.
Just like I’ve been told.
So many times before.

There is a friend of mine
That got injured
More than a year ago.
And is still living
With the pain
Of her injuries.

If I were
The heartless bastard
I’ve been told I am.
The evil slime
That doesn’t care for anyone
Except for himself.

Would I ask God
In heaven up above
To let me take her pain away
Every now and then.
If only for a little while.
So she could find her smile again.

Oh, yeah.
I’m keep forgetting.
I’m a heartless bastard.
As I’ve been told.

And you wonder why
I don’t listen
To the things you say to me