Children’s laughter makes me smile, the sound of high pitched happy screams bounce off my ear drums. Igniting a quick beat of pleasure in my pulsating weary heart. It brings me back. It makes me remember , to a time I never want to forget, but at the same time lost in an amnesiac trance, barely aware that I was ever there.

Lost between 2 worlds. Existing for the sake of it, the perverse irony of my being. How I should come to love when born from something far more depraved. How I could sense distain, with your wayward glance. Your tender less touch and your prickly tongue.

Yet I am locked in, with no where and nothing to run to. But I have everything I ever wanted burried deeply in my mind. You cannot touch that. You cannot take that. It is not yours to take. You will not succeed….

Happy smiles. Warming soft breaths nuzzled in my neck. Softly , calmly yet frantically seeking out your nourishment. A satisfied sigh, a relaxed and trusting grip as you find your source.

The bond so strong, the love unyielding yet I must betray you. I do not have a choice. They will take you. You are to be their trophy, their prize. Their decency in their evil trade.

Their cloth is the cloak of the devil himself. Ever etched and engraved in my heart, in my mind, under my skin. My flesh is your flesh. My blood is your blood. My love is everlasting. You are my life and I live in hope eternal, that well meet again.

Children in the street playing, skipping, crying, laughing. I ache for you. My every waking minute is consumed, thoughts of you.

My belief, my wish, my dream, my love, my life, my innocence, my shame, my heartbreak, my loss, my light, my dark, my smile, my anger my utter devastation. I could not, was allowed not, to keep you.

Their skirts swishing off the parquet floor. Their chain-like beads dangle like the hangmans noose. Their footsteps quicken, grow louder. They’re on their way.

I wake again and again over and over. I’ll never forget. I search among the faces. I curse their command. Cold as the statue they adore. Hearts made of stone.

Suffer little children for they have spoken…. suffer little children, so many hearts broken.

© carrie sherbourne and Relay shun sips – Blog, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Carrie sherbourne and Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

Author: itsjustnoteasy

Hi, I am a 50 something stay at home mother, grandmother and daughter of elderly (ish) parents. I do however, volunteer twice a week in a charity shop, mind grand children on occasion and of course do any other running around required by extended family. Prior to being a stay at home mum, I have worked at many different jobs, changed career a few times and gathered lots of stories along the way, which I hope you will enjoy as we begin our new relationship. I hope I will be able to entertain, engage and enlighten you, if only a small bit. Life is short, so lets have some fun. Looking forward to getting up and running (metaphorically speaking of course) as I have no intention of running anywhere! Perish the thought!! Thanks for stopping by, Carrie x

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