Let Me Sign

* * *

Broken she
Has her arms twisted
Is pointing at me
I'll stand, but I ain't coming
Over as she
She spoke with a voice
That struck at the sky
She said, "come on over
Bittersweet
I'll wrap you in my arms"
And She said, "Let me sign"
"Let me sign"

* * *

She was dying, her beautiful face looking up at me. But it wasn’t possible. She couldn’t see me, not yet. She wanted freedom so desperately; she wanted it to come for her. But it wasn’t her time just yet. Her golden eyes were locked with mine, we couldn’t look away, but she had no choice. Her weakness prevented her to look anywhere else, or so I thought. I thought her weakness had taken over, until she lifted her arms and pointed at me. I just stood there and watched. She wanted me to come over, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t coming, for I needed to do what was expected of me. Then it happened.

“Come on over.” She said, and her voice reached the sky, from where I stood watching… Listening. Her voice was soft, soothing, and yet, controlling. The weakness caught my attention, and I felt a wave of pity wash over me. She didn’t deserve this. I frowned, but then a small smile appeared on her broken face. Her ending? Bittersweet. I wanted to give her freedom. I gave one last look at her, I felt myself falling. Falling down to her, I wanted to wrap her in my arms. I caved, I was coming for her.

I was getting closer to her as she grew weaker. My hands barely touched the ground as she whispered, “Let me sign.” She now had the thing she wanted most, freedom.