Runaway

Graffiti decorations

Underneath a sky of dust

A constant wave of tension

On top of broken trust

I hate you. All my life I've hated you. You made me feel so damned inadequate and substandard just because to you I was a mere extension of yourself that had no feelings, no life and didn't need to be spared the brunt of your temper, or the harshness of your thoughts. You never hesitated to shout at me, you were never reluctant to vent your feelings upon me, never unwilling to lift a finger against me. People remarked upon my pretty face, so like yours, but they never saw the bruises. The ones upon my skin, or the ones beneath it.

You never bothered to lower your voice when talking about me to others. Everyone heard your praise, and everyone heard your vituperation, your denunciation and your scorn. No-one ever bothered to look my way as you were belittling me publicly because I had failed you again. No-one has ever mothered, nursed or baby-sitted me. You never protected me. You never dried my tears.

The lessons that you taught me

I learn were never true

Now I find myself in question

They point the finger at me again

Guilty by association

You point the finger at me again

You tried to teach me to be like you. You tried to force me to be you. Yet you, of all people, should have known I would never submit to you.

Not one caress or affectionate look did I receive from you. Not one kind word did you ever say to me; you told me not to be scolded was being praised enough. You beat me, with your hands and your cane, cursed me with your wand and your words. But violence induces counter-violence; have you never been told that? You can only abuse a caged animal so long before it dies. Or turns on you. You will not break me, and I will not die. Everything that does not kill me makes me stronger.

I have inherited your pride; I will never be humble. And I will not be forced into submission; if I have learned nothing else from the harsh lessons you called upbringing, I have at least learned quiet defiance. You possess a grace and bearing that money can't buy; your face is like a work of art. It is immaculate and exceptional; beautiful and radiating power. But the hole that gapes inside you will not be covered much longer by the mask you wear so well. I will never be like you.

Paper bags and angry voices

Under a sky of dust

Another wave of tension

Has more than filled me up

All my talk of taking action

These words were never true

I've lived in silence for so long, always watching, waiting, and promising. I promised so much, with so little to offer but my word and my name, and the respect that name still commands, despite all you have done to destroy it. Oh yes, I know you say exactly the same of me: I am the traitor, and you the faithful servant to the family name who upheld traditions and values.

But how do you sell your soul and stay true to your name? Or to yourself?

That is the reason you never let anyone look into those pretty eyes of yours, those slate-grey eyes. Or are they more like steel? More like a frozen day, made immortal by the infinite coldness that preserves it forever. Yes, that is exactly what your eyes are like, because eyes are the window to the soul that lies within, and you have no soul, only coldness. A soul is linked with a conscience, and you do not possess a conscience, either. You sold your soul and killed your conscience; killed it with your consuming, all-encompassing hatred of yourself and everything around you. Looking into your eyes is like being sucked into a dark hole that there is no escape from. It is a hungry blackness that devours you, and it must be fed with the happiness of others, for you are misanthropic, and there is no other way for you to be at peace.

But someday you implode from the sheer force of the emptiness inside you.

Now I find myself in question

They point the finger at me again

Guilty by association

You point the finger at me again

I deceived my love. But I will not betray him.

I was so empty, I never even knew what love was until he showed me. I knew lust, and I knew attraction, I even knew pity, from a distance, for I knew there were many who pitied me, but nothing could be further from love. I never knew compassion, but now I know remorse.

My emptiness, my need for a human touch was so heavy, so constant and so complete that it seemed normal until the burden was lifted off my shoulders by the first kiss we ever shared. The day I learned what love is. It took me much longer to be able to love, because of all the pain that you have inflicted upon me, and the damage my soul has taken. But I have learned, and some things can not be desecrated.

A small seed of hope budded in a place somewhere deep down that I never even knew existed. For the first time in my life I felt loved, and I felt the ability to love inside myself. There is something so gentle, yet infinitely strong about love and hope. They are so fragile, yet so hard to kill.

You cannot break my love, for love can only be broken by those who have felt it.

I wanna run away

Never say goodbye

I wanna know the truth

Instead of wondering why

I wanna know the answers

No more lies

I wanna shut the door

And open up my mind

I took in obedience with my mother's milk, but my esteem is a part of what I am. I have a different concept of self-respect and self-worth than you do. You have done all you can to destroy me, yet nothing you have ever thrown at me has been able to break me. You are a bitter man, and for all your troubles I am scarred physically and emotionally. But my integrity and dignity are still intact, for I protected them with my body and my soul.

I never took part in the powerful play that is life, but I will contribute a verse. You cannot stop me. Not even you. Especially not you.

And open up my mind...

~*~

Hunger finally penetrated the murky niches of Draco's introspection.

He looked around him. No glowing sun penetrated the heavy overcast sky. The only evidence of its presence was the diffused light of the shadow-less grey day, and the shapes around him were characterless. The bleak sky and ambiguous atmosphere gave a feeling of twilight, and a few raindrops splattered on the boy's pale countenance.

He stood up, turning his face towards the grey sky now crying down on him, and savoured the icy needles of rain on his face for several seconds. Then he turned abruptly, and walked briskly back towards the large castle that loomed up before him.

As he reached the massive double-doors of the Entrance Hall, he came to a decision. A mirthless smile touched the corner of the lips that were by now blue with cold, as the boy understood the significance of the thought that had just brushed the corner of his mind.

He now knew what he had to do.