How she wished to change; how she craved the change. She desired the change; desired the confidence as small children desired candy or toys. The confidence came once or twice, but every time it was never good enough. How those cold gray eyes brought with them such a destruction capable of silencing her fire. Tied her up with webs of worthlessness and fractured sentences, the fragments of precious records still left on pause, for fear still resonates within memories never forgotten. Still broken, not yet healed. Youthful laughter and joyful memories tainted by the words from a single man who'd promised her the world.
January was responsible for bringing the cold, what came next wasn't snow or ice. No, instead something returned. Something bright, something orange, something burning. Fire. The returning fire carried with it innocents she'd forgotten. Everyone used to say when she was born she held the fire in her heart and a storm capable of crippling even the strongest of fighters. Years later, how right they all were.
©lexiday
L