Stranger

She came to me because I searched for her. From a distance her aura drained so quickly, as if her most prized possession was taken, lost. I watched this young and joyous girl dissolve like a sugar in hot tea. We walked into a room, alone, away from all the chaos and pressure. I stood behind her, close. Her reflection reminded me of what it was like to be potent with pureness yet so quickly, tainted with poison. The lights were dim, almost dark. The only glow came from the holiday lights which dangled on the frame of the mirror before us. She stood bold but now broken. Her face pale, lush rose lips and cheeks flush raspberry pink, as if she ran through a snow covered hill to escape the imprisonment of her temple, her body. The red coat she wore screamed with brightness like fresh blood from an open wound, dripping with the sorrow of this world's stabbing stroke. She became a sad story. The one's we hear of so often yet never believe they happen until they do. And yet I did nothing but watch. Watch her soul rain virgin tears as she spoke only when she was able to control her breath which broke by the silent sobbing of shock. I felt a pinch like reminder, a slight rage yet a silent numbness. How could I save her? I wanted to do nothing but hold her and tell her I knew exactly how she felt, how intense of an ache one could take. How beautiful she still was, betrayed but ever so radiant for she aches now yet yearns for strength, hurts deeply but believes still. I held her close, until I felt the calmness in her breathing. Silence was broken and her promise was spoken. To never again lose herself, to a nameless stranger.