Your words fall from grace
Like a summers race
You rummage through the world
At an unsteady pace
You think like this, and like that they say
But they don't even know your name
They wonder why you pillage and wander to and fro
They judge you on your clothes and where you go
You don't even care
You just move on with out a tear
The seams at your heart don't rip
Even as they get out their whips
Their whips of words they use to slay
But you ignore them with a deafening grey
I praise you for your earnesty
And for your wild pace
I praise you for your life in which you are graced
Because you know who you are and you won't be erased

"Take a breath." Martha says. And so I do, I take a deep breath and no sooner than I do a short gasp escapes my lips as the strings of my corset are tugged. "It'll be over soon, Miss." Martha says. Her voice raspy with age. "Okay." I say nodding as I grab the wall for relief. And the corset is tugged and my airway is closed. My lungs are squeezed and air rushes out just as fast as it came. "All right, Miss." Martha says and lets go. I place my hands against my chest to try and breathe through the tightness that closes around me. I breathe in and ignore the light headedness I'm succumbed to.

"Anna," My stepmother says. Her venom voice can be recognized from afar.
I glare at the wall, "Yes?"
She pats my back, "You need to be on your very best behavior now, Anna. We need this." She says.
"You mean you need this." I fix.
"Yes. I need this. And you need this or I won't be happy, and if I'm not happy your father won't be happy. Got it, darling?" She says tautly.
"Yes." I say and a blue sapphire gown is put over my body. Billows of fabric flow down from my waist and wrap around my torso. I go to the mirror and look at myself while I'm alone. I look nothing like I did back in London. Dark brown curls flow down my back. Even darker eyes stare back, framed by thick brown eye lashes. I don't see myself, but a shell, a wasted shell that does what she's told. The shell is pretty, that does not matter. Her full, round, pink lips don't matter. Or her alabaster cream skin. I shake my head and walk out of my room. I have one goal this evening, get Samuel Edward's to want to wed me. One goal. One empty goal.

I walk out of my room, a blank look. I walk down the large mahogany stairs of my home into the grand room below. As I walk in all eyes are on me. Even Samuel's eyes stay glued on me as I walk on the floor. Sticking to me like sugar floss. He crosses the floor.

She floats down the stairs, her beauty over flowing, but a blank image hardens on her face. She looks like a porcelain doll, frozen in time. She doesn't look alive as she once did when we walked through Paris. Even then she was less alive than when we had walked through London. That one time, so long ago. When pink brushed her cheeks from emotion, not powder. Anna, my love. As I begin to walk to her Samuel Edward does the same. With his gallant charm and inviting looks. Does he dare ask her to dance? My Anna? Does he dare take her away? I presume he does.

I run down the wheat field, the raining sun glistening off the grass. I pull up my dress, just below my knees and run free. The wind rushing threw my hair and the speed in my muscles sends adrenaline coursing through my veins. My heart beats to the sound of my feet when they reach the ground. I smile in bliss. As soon as my run starts so do the yells, "You! Girl. Witch!"

I spin around to look at who dares say the word 'witch' off their lips. When I do I see the points of their fingers and the numbers of their mob. They're coming for me. My eyes open up in fear. How can they say I'm a witch? I believe in the All Mighty Lord. Christ himself would not condemn me to being immortalized as a witch. My feet root into the ground as a heavy burden and I can not move. I hope to my soul that this outrage is all but a dream. A figment of my imagination as if I fell asleep under the vast willow by my home. But I blink in frustration to get rid of this nightmare, and it does not go away. The mob of men and women just brush forward and I take off. I lift my skirt and run faster than the wind. I run with the gift My Lord has given me. To out run the mob that screams after.

The sun is setting as I run to the woods. Branches crunching under my feet and the large underbrush keeping me guarded from gleaming sun. They protect me from the eyes of my village people. I know once they have set their minds on one being a witch, that person is condemned to being one until jury says other wise. But even with the backs of my village turned on me, I run. Faster and faster as the sun sets with me. Soon nothing but orange-brown sky surrounds me with a pink undertone. The beauty of the sky doesn't distract me from my goal and that is to find shelter from the crazy people. My breath catches in my throat and burns like a fire in heat. I don't know if I can make it farther than a few feet.

As energy falls from my body like a oak tree shedding leaves in fall, the mob slowly dwindles from my sight. With the mob decreasing my speeds lessens. "Shh, no!" is whispered to me somewhere. I spin around and am caught by arms, I scramble to escape but am not freed. I'd scream but a hand covers my mouth as they catch in my throat. They whisper in my ear to calm down and soon I do. When I'm let go I turn around to look at the person who has caught me so. The person is tall and lean, a boy. When I look at his face I see he is no boy, but a young man of about seventeen. I look at his face, it has the wisdom of someone twice his age, but the youth of someone of my generation. His eyes are smokey grey and a black folds of hair frame his face, his lips are round and full. "We have to go." He says, interrupting my stares.

"What?" I respond, confused at his words.
He sighs in, "The people. They are going to kill us unless we run. We're condemned witches, we must leave." He says. His voice not showing any tone of emotion.
"Who are you? And how would you know this?" I ask, my eyes ruffled in confusion and distrust.
"I'm Samuel Grey."

Oh to dream a sweet dream.
To dream in cloud 9.
To see what it's like,
to be different just one time.
You want my love?
You want my truth.
How could I ask this daunting task of you?
Should I wait for the single blue moon,
to show you my secrets that loom?

So, do you want me and my darkness,
or me and my light?
I can't give you both,
but I can give you time.
I love you till the end,
in hate and cries.
I love you.
Not one heart beat less,
or one scream more,
I love you always.
Forever and more.

I run through the wild forest, my breath catching in my throat, my screams staying silent. Almost there, I say to myself. I can hear foot steps behind, not close but close enough. I run over the moss and the little sticks while great evergreens tower over me. I can feel my feet slipping into the ground ready to trip me with every step, but I won't. I won't trip. Finally I run far enough that I can go left, forward, right, or back. Back to him. Back to the nightmare house. I wince in fear at the thought of going back. The horrors he'll produce in that room. My body shudders. Right. I go right. The black of the night is my map, my calmness in this chaos. It's above me, with the green around me. Making me forget for a second. "Baby, where are you? Baby?!" I hear being yelled. The deep gritty voice filled with false apathy. "Baby, just come back. All of this will be over if you come back." his voice floods with sensitivity. I bite my tongue to choke back the bitter laugh. All over. Hah. I keep running but I can't run anymore. I lean against a tree to catch my breath. Raspy air rushes from my throat and back in. Must keep going. The town can only be a couple more miles...or that's what he told me. Only a couple miles away. Fear starts to course through my veins and all of the sudden a stream of light crosses me. My eyes open in fear and I take off again. My muscles ache with every step, but are worth it compared to the bruises that brush my skin. I keep running, "Baby, there you are." I can hear his footsteps growing behind me and I dare to run faster. Faster, I scream in my brain. And as I take one more step my ankle is grabbed. "Baby, let's go home." I'm tripped and I fall. Slowly dragged away, the trees, the sky, and me.

Drug Addiction

The loss of someone is far too great
Especially at a mighty rate
I lost you to a dangerous crime
In just a short amount of time
I hoped your addiction would fall real fast
That I was enough to make you fast
but all my hopes came and gone
You gave up fat too quick
Already gone, oh it was sick
I hoped for a while that you'd be back
Back so fast I couldn't see what I lacked
But as I watched the clock go tick
I knew you wouldn't be back so quick
So to this drug you lost your fate
And to this drug I lost my wait
For I gave up on time and space
Waiting for you to return in place
But now I will not sit and wait
For you to return from your fate
My loss is great, for you will not be replaced