AISHA
all the skeletons you hide
show me yours and i'll show you mine
show me yours and i'll show you mine
She watches him stagger, anguish, and then finally reach her touch. His skin is cold, not at all like the smoldering soot that insulates the ground. Her eyes linger over their contact, carefully she investigates and worries over every inch of the skin there until her hands close around his arm, keeping him sturdy, not letting him fall. Her own hands are not soft, the hilts of many swords had calloused her palms, the cold in the air left them dry. But she would provide as much warmth as she could, through the space they inhabit.
Henry reached out for Aisha, and this gave her the confidence to embrace him. She grabbed his out stretched hand and tugged him closer, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. She looked up to him, "I don't know. There's no easy way out of this," she said softly. "You keep living, you remember them, and you fight to be happy again. No matter how hard it is," and that was the best advice she could give him. It was what she'd done, what she'd tried to do.
Henry reached out for Aisha, and this gave her the confidence to embrace him. She grabbed his out stretched hand and tugged him closer, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. She looked up to him, "I don't know. There's no easy way out of this," she said softly. "You keep living, you remember them, and you fight to be happy again. No matter how hard it is," and that was the best advice she could give him. It was what she'd done, what she'd tried to do.
all the bad dreams that you hide
show me yours
show me yours
