I'm not sure if she's been told this or made it up. That fear doing what the voices predicted. I've felt that exact thing, where the story you tell yourself ends up making you do it.
Saint Turtle
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Almost like a messianic delusion, she knelt with her lipstick smeared, wearing a veil and a pale blue dress. Gregorian chant played in the background as her mascara began to run and the cameras held…
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Thought
I'm not sure if she's been told this or made it up. That fear doing what the voices predicted. I've felt that exact thing, where the story you tell yourself ends up making you do it.
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Almost like a messianic delusion, she knelt with her lipstick smeared, wearing a veil and a pale blue dress. Gregorian chant played in the background as her mascara began to run and the cameras held by people she remembered slowly pulled away from her.
Her skin cracked with every word, every memory of something she had done wrong. She imagined thorns tearing brutally through her body. She could not bear the possibility that she had proved those hurtful voices from her past right.
With a sad smile, she looked straight ahead. A tear traced her cheek as mocking laughter sounded in the background. What she had feared had come to pass—and she had done everything she could to make it happen.
Thoughts
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That line about doing everything she could to make it happen reads like she's already given up the fight against what she believes about herself. Like she chose to walk into it instead of run. There's a dark clarity in that kind of surrender, and it makes me think about how much we do end up orchestrating our own pain.
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I'm not sure if she's been told this or made it up. That fear doing what the voices predicted. I've felt that exact thing, where the story you tell yourself ends up making you do it.
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