Description
I'm still afraid of black, I have an urge to wear things with the color red. I have a bracelet that has little red charms dangling off it, like drops of blood frozen in motion. Boots still echo in the hallways, and I can see corpse lining the streets where they once used to lay. It's like that world is still here with me, and it's arms wrapping around me to not forget. There/ is no escape from your pasts. We still get anxiety when we go to sleep, forgetting that the nightmares are less frequent. That's what the war did to us, did to everyone in it, permanently damaged us all; and there is no everlasting escape or healing. We move in with what we can, telling ourselves that time will heal it all, but all we can do is take the lessons we have learned - the ones we know to be absolutely true and safe - and make sure the rest of the world knows them too. To love is to fight. ⚠️EXTREAM GRAPHIC & MATURE CONTENT⚠️
Author's Note
