The past is a reflection
Void of emotion.
Like a stranger,
I watch.
I examine.
What?
Why?
How?
Who was I?
A picture of its foul beginnings.
A word synonymous with the darkest of thoughts.
A word that sits on the tip of my tongue but I dare not utter.
For the sound gives rise to fear.
Oh the soul crushing fear.
It subdues my heart.
Numbs my mind
And narrows my field of view.
SONYA A WATSON 