they were taunting her, jeer erupted from them, the crowd was a buzzing haze, it bled into my ears, it piqued the curiosity running in my veins. i craned my neck, seeing into the crowd, deep, deep into their midst. power said her swift goodbyes to my body, lethargy kissed me on the forehead. i was in a frozen haze, once the crowd parted i knelt down beside her, collecting her on the crook of my palm. the sun glinted, coloring her in a kaleidoscope. i slowly eased her into my eyelids, and named her teardrop. she later grew up to travel down cheeks, and then down necks, penning stories of pain.
for in this world, we need authors of pain as well.
