Saskia stood on the cliff’s edge, Her white hair swirled around her in the breeze rushing off of the plain behind her. She touched the blindfold covering her eyes and sighed, such a fate, and such sorrow.
“Why? Why do I need to wear a blindfold? Why is it ME?!” She drew her knees close to her chest and buried her face in the shaggy black jeans. Her shoulders shuddered in a hard sob and her head jerked back, “So different… I’m tired of being so goddamn different.” She uttered, her words dripping with venom.
Saskia bolted to her feet, standing so that her stance was squared, and her pose matched the expression on her face. A strong gust blew past, causing her snow-white hair to rustle in the neatly styled ponytail. Slowly, her hands reached up and pulled out the silver ribbon restraining her hair. Next, she removed the blindfold. This revealed two cloudy white eyes. First impression; she was blind, but truth be told, she could see perfectly fine, but people still looked at her like a disabled freak simply because she looked blind,
“I’m perfectly capable…I’m perfectly normal.”
Her words were hushed, before she looked up to the blue sky, and then the forest at the foot of the colossal cliffs. She drew a deep breath, her beige tube-top flexing as her back arched back. She belted out a beginning note, singing a song to the birds, the trees, the sky,
“She walks to school with the lunch she packed
Nobody knows what she's holdin' back
Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday
She hides the bruises with linen and lace
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes she wishes she was never born
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
Somebody cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it'll be too late
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel”
View User's Journal
My journal, my book, my adventures.
I've been disconnected from my true past, I've had two people pose to be my father and I've been trying to find out my true family. I'm out to find my real past, get my brother back, and try not to make everyone else hate me. This is my journal.
 |
/) /)
( . .)
c(')(')
Satzuni