Outstretched, waiting for the chance to snatch up something.
Something dear.
Something precious.
Something a person would do anything to hold onto.
He merely shrugs as he reaches forward his talons, grabbing what he desires, laughing as he does so.
He laughs at faults, condescending in stride as he puts others down; forming a black cloud over me. Depressive, never ending, always reminding of the past. The pain it brings.
It cuts me up, rips my soul to shreds. Then he comes, trampling over the remains.
I want to scream at him, cower over him as he does:
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