An unforgiving, long night.
Hands stained with three different kinds of blood.
The woman who refused to budge. The man who sought to forgive.
A girl that wanted life.
A sin that cannot be forgiven.
My tendons feel like they’re about to snap like an overstretched rubber band.
Every time I draw breath into my lungs, it feels like a hundred daggers are shoved down my body.
Leeches and insects of the habitat around me suck off my blood.
Like I did for someone else.
I guess we aren’t so different after all.
Leaf blades seem smooth and tender, but when running through them, they can be harsher than human whips.
Nature does not care who I am.
But he did.
Despite my mind being clouded with countless questions, his words still echo in my brain.
Sweet words laced with a tang of copper.
That’s right. His words.
“Your existence is not a sin.”