His Story

Numbers never mattered, but they were always counted

He revealed, she withdrew

She remembered every single time

A number

He loved hard and all that lie in between were space

Fillers

A role which he needed to play in order to feel he’d left a mark in the world

Made them feel, special?

Confused.

He controlled every move

A metaphorical puppetmaster but no strings

Just words

He found her language and used it

Touch

She would fight, he would touch

She would withdraw, he would…

Touch

She would find a wall

Touch. Her wall crumbled

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