Fate
She gave me my memories, concise on a small square of white paper. She handed me my heart wrapped in the bitter leaves of willful blindness. She was the one with the scissors.
I waited for her to cut. I waited for days, months, years. Decades have passed and still I wait, eyes focused like lasers on the thread of my life. The blades frozen above and below like the scream in my throat.
There is nothing I can bribe her with. Nothing I can say that will move her to mercy. She is unreachable. She is cruel. She is infinite. I, am the mote in her eye.
Nocturnal Emissions 
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