Innocence lost - again.

The best advice I have ever been given was: "Never let them see you cry." So, I did not. Perhaps this should have been the exception to the rule. Tears never get you far though. I have worked through the hunger and the pain. Suffered long nights alone in silence. Without ever complaining. For this, I am the "bad guy".

Was I plotting to overthrow the government? No. I was working. Success has no mercy. My success is not a given. Like everything else, it is an evasive butterfly that just sometimes, lands in my hand. When I do not curl my fist, and stare in wonder.

The "fall" girl.

I was in their house. Accused of a crime i did not commit by a vindictive ass-hat looking for a doll to take the fall. They refused to listen. Accepted the "truth" of a person I would not trust further than I can throw him. The fact that they kept me in a room where I could see the store manager tossing broken and damaged bottles of perfume and cologne into a box, it became obvious that their own staff was a destructive lot. I was just a tool they could use to recoup the loss.

Three hours in a cold, dank, smelly room. I was grateful I had not had anything to eat during the previous twenty-four hours. Hungry and cold was how I would stay for another nine. I did not stand a chance. They chose the right person, that much was clear.

Sitting on a concrete floor. Time wasted in a sullen place. In their domain I was retained. Despite the bio pic I must say no serious physical damage was sustained. My ego suffered more - and I am certain my id took control. Not exactly the right situation for a healthy, growing relationship with myself.

For reasons unknown to me, the creepy captain decided to photograph me for his personal use. I'm not talking about the mugshots or the inked hands. I am saying he pulled up my record (or lack of one) and photographed a picture of me aged nineteen. None of these photos were printed out and presented in court the next day, which makes me wonder what he is planning to do with them. Especially since he started calling me his "strong baby" immediately afterwards.

Well, "Captain" I have a suspicion about why you do not patrol my neighbourhood anymore. Some people have worse problems than others, but what if I surmise correctly that yours is unacceptable? I am not saying this is the case. My sixth sense is making a heck of a racket. Then again, I am just a woman, a psychologist, and an artist. How many skills do I need?

A harsh lesson I suppose I needed to learn. Next time I will listen. In fact, as far as planning goes there won't be a next time.

The consequences are still with me. Took me days to crawl from my bed, pick up a pen. What can I say? What am I supposed to write? I am not sorry for anyone other than myself. Driving myself insane with what I did not do. Telling myself to forget and forgive. Living with neglect.

What was so easy for them, is still not easy for me.

Everyone telling me "Let it go" but they do not know my soul.

It was not fair, at least they thought me "fair".

The lady with the wicked tongue, razors sewn in my lips. Twisted sense of humour.

These were the traits they could not handle.

Now I sit here, mainlining data. Craving no attention.

Fighting not to fade away. Feeding on the fuel. Rising to re-ignite.

My favourite gents, I'll see you in flames❤️

Just move forward. Put one foot in front of the other. The mind will reset.

Resigner or should I say, "The accused." Nope, I am quite sure that's a movie-title.

Resigner

Keeping an eye on you beautiful. Be the scars to mine. Live to the max, love till it bruises, laugh till it hurts, then do it some more. Do it better. I know you can.

Keep on reading!