if only that one step
towards the ending of the consequences
had been placed.

a hand over the heart
with fingers crossed behind the back
a treason is made
and nothing really mattered at all.

in the end, she sat back down and rethought over all the memories. She decided to change them all and re-write the past so that when she remembered, the remembering would be more real and satisfactory, instead of actually real and painful. the programming took days and monthes and weeks and hours and when she was done, she did not want to sit and remember, but walk away and forget everything. so she took a box and placed it all in side, locked it up and threw it down the cellar. shutting the green cellar door.
satisfaction in a static mind set, setting and slipping upon the slits and secrets that seemed to seep out and slumber around the yard.
wood floor rot and water damage walk ways. pathes all back to that destructive mind.

a stalker was born and locked. but these thoughts will not be perceived as a danger to her justice.