Standing at the edge of an abyss. The fissure in the earth stretches on for miles and you can barely see to the other side - not that you would want to anyways. You feel finally free but there is something missing still. You reach for a hand and you find one. You reach for another hand and you find another. You grope for a loving heart, and a strange presence is gone. You look around hastily, cautiously. (where is it?) Your gaze slowly turns over to the abyss, to the other side of it. (there) Who crushed the deep fissure into the earth? Who dared to do such a thing and separate you from the loving heart that you now so much long for.
(it was me)
Time to build a suspension bridge.
Standing at the edge of an abyss. The fissure was always in front of your eyes but you never really cared to see it. Now that you are aware of its existence, you would do anything to remove it, to cross it, to fly over it like a white, careless pidgeon. You reach for a hand, but there are none. (where are they?) You are alone. You look slowly around - no one is watching you because there are no others. Your eyes turn towards the abyss and no matter how hard you try looking over it, to the other side, you fail and your eyes glaring at the blackness of the abyss with an abysmal glow in them. The glow sinks into a gray haze and you become numb. (what else is there?) You take a few steps closer to the edge.
(was it me?)
Time to fall into the depths.
.never look for the truth in your mother's eyes.