I wrote a destiny today.
It was beautiful.
It danced.
Swayed.
Turned.
Twisted.
Contorted.
Deformed.
I wrote my sister’s destiny today.
And I wrote it in blood.
My blood.
Blue on a Red page.
Green on turbulent Yellow.
A corruption.
Perversion.
I have trapped her.
She is in a pulsing,
Quivering prison.
The walls are slick, and
Painted Red.
The only way out
Is through a gaping hole.
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Talk, my friend. Now that you've read this section, the urge to speak has increased. I know. It's all right. It happens...
Stop fighting it. Talk.