let it die when she does.

will i learn to resent you?

i’m beginning to see parts of her in you.

her legacy will remain that of a

despotic regime.

a hatred-filled reign of manipulation and domination.

 

i fear that your hand holding mine

will turn to steel,

unforgiving

shackles to tame;

control to maintain.

 

is this our heritage?

what the descendants of the island

will inevitably become?

exhaustive trolls,

with our bodies as pawns

in a constant game of power

and deception.

 

i don’t want to inherit that legacy.

let it die when she does.

 

– it’s okay, just breathe. Take my hand, we will roam free.

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