If I were a superhero my name would be Fast Talking Dame, I would render enemies helpless with convincing arguments and minimal bloodshed. Instead, silence is my shroud. There are infinte mudslides in the banks of paradise, avalanches of bodies sliding over the downed, pursuit of happiness whether or not you drown your peers, who cares? It's all circumstancial anyway. Wrong place at the wrong time, but doesn't the phrase 'a twist of fate' ring of a seething contradiction? I see it all through the tears in my skin. Words that drew blood--the culmination of my own influencable silence. I am not invincible.
OOooo gave me shivers. Thumbs up on the train of thought! Though I think the format could have been used a bit more effectively.
