Assistant Cyclic
Fear walks in her tears. She asked the anger to leave but
it's there. Hard to release its (the) hold. Breathe. Out
of cycle. Leave. She's not yours. She's not mine. She's
herself. Free yourself. The thread is behind as she
whispers his name in my ear and quietly convinces herself
it'll be alright. How will it be alright? Please make it
be alright. I want it to be alright.
