Tainted Soul

The light in her eyes

Was there,

But was as ineffectual

As an upturned umbrella,

Her reality saturated

By whatever had happened to her.

She had a rigid distrust

Like a lone survivor,

Wrong place, wrong time,

Rattled by the very air

That filled her lungs,

The very breeze that dimpled

Her perpetually cold skin

Guarded heavy eyes,

Posture like a rescue animal,

Peering into the world

she didn’t know.

She became the bank teller

Who anticipated her fate;

Well before the masked man

Approached her window;

I wish it had been different

4 thoughts on “Tainted Soul

  1. This was so potent, the emotion so burning and palpable. The imagery interspersed vivid details with abstract thoughts, and the combination painted her like a three-dimensional person. I don’t only see her darkness though; I also see her light pushing through, even if it was not captured directly.

    Hopefully this is only one part of the journey, the purpose of which will be revealed when she walks further.

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