Copyright © 1998 By Sapphire Dove
Rating: PG
Disclaimer:
Author's Note: To be seen through Nikita-colored glasses.
Spoilers: None
Scream & Cry
Scream in the darkness,
And who will hear you besides your own tortured soul?
Gasp for air while they suffocate you,
And I'll run to bring you to safety -
In my arms-
Where my love will keep you alive.
I pray...
And I cry, as I've always cried,
But you know that by the quelling of the fire in my eyes.
Run again. Away. Too far and to a place too
Dark and cold for me to blindly follow...
And I promise you, even then, you won't be forgotten by my heart.
I love you, and damned if I'm not a fool for loving!
No mask or shield can conceal you now.
I've held your bleeding heart in my hands,
And I've soothed your aching soul with my lullaby.
And I know who you are beneath those hideous scars,
Because once you were like me -
You still are, deep inside -
But I think that I would love you even if I didn't know that about you.
I know you.
I love you.
And more than anything, I need you, too.
I can feel you in my dreams, and I can see only you through my tears.
But I'm still ... uncertain...
My heart tears and bleeds for you - I would be you,
But for the fact that I still fight to be free.
My eyes see through your armor like sunlight piercing glass.
And I want to be near you, to heal you, to protect you,
To be with you, and for you to be with me.
To love me, to revere me, and never,
Never to feel that you must deceive me.
Not I, not for either the love or the life of me.
Tell me the truth, all the truths of your soul, and I
Swear that I will never be able to hold your truths against you.
But your lies? What value do they hold, but that what slays,
Maims and blunts? No matter how they are delivered and with what
Noble intentions they come, nevertheless, they are the poison of what I might
Dream to be our relationship.
I and you; we, bound heart and soul, warring with body and mind.
And we are always reaching for the other, like infants for milk, but being
Rejected; unconsciously, or - too terrible to think on -
Consciously. Our devotion, our heartfelt obsession drives us to the
Brink of our reality, and we are so
Disgusted with ourselves that it seems silly to imagine that we could ever truly
See ourselves.
But I know that I see you clearly, no matter the
Deceptions and lies that you throw up like glamors to bewilder my eyes.
I have seen you for who you really are, and I love you with a force and
Power that threatens to extinguish all that I am. And that is
Terror for me - to not be who I am, but to be a monster, an
Atrocity born of mindlessness and unquestioning devotion -
To be what my most wretched fears threaten that you have become.
So I cry,
I scream,
I rebel and
I refuse to be what They would make me to be - what everyday They
Lead you
Step by step, and tortured
Breath by breath to be.
No.
But do you fight Them, Michael?
Have you ever?
I must believe that you have,
That you did, and though you don't show it,
That you do. For it would kill me, as sure as
Them, to ever be made to accept that you have laid down your arms in the
Crucial battle for your soul...
And that ... that you would ever, could ever throw yourself to the
Lions in lieu of me ... that thought, that unwelcome
Premonition is too unbearable...
Unbearable, Michael!
As is every lie, every deception, mistrust and disbelief. Like this
Idiotic, needy, passion-fueled desire for love and tenderness...
From you ... from all...
Unaccepted and unwanted my entire life ... that's what
I've been, to many, but by the beating of my heart, please, not you.
And Michael, oh, Michael! Together, together we could beat Them!
We could be free, truly free ... but only together.
And we could make things right -
In the Section and in the ways that They operate.
I don't know if I can do it all alone;
I need your knowledge, experience and support,
And I need to believe that you want things to be right, too.
... And I can sing a song about a child who knew no love, but could
Imagine its richness, and almost touch its wondrous hues. And I can
Reach back through the cold, solitary years and take that child in
My arms, in my fondest dreams, and give him all that he would ever need...
But can you tell me, who dreams of comforting the
Child that was me?
She's lost and alone, and so very frightened,
But there's no one to take her small hand and lead her in from the cold.
And what does that mean?