I hate the sun that burns in my jealous sky.

I hate the twisted things in my heart begging to see the light.
  
Please take your joy somewhere else.

I hate the hope that it brings
 

Hope is poisonous and blinding for my soul

and I want to go home where hope doesn't exist.

Sweet, was her smile when she thought she had had me. It made her tears even better when her anti-cock trap didn't work like they said it would.  Poor, thing.  Pain was pain.  It could be dealt with now or later. She must have been waiting for me with great anticipation since she was wearing a trap for me.  Sometimes I think it must hurt for a woman to try to interpret things for herself without anyone there to tell her how to do it. I don't know why they do it, but women shouldn't think.  It wastes everyone's time.   She could not see the scars I bore on the inside or out, but I would become one of hers.  And this new one that she left me with would just be my red badge of courage.

This was inspired by discussions I have had about the Rape-Axe, which for ethical reasons beyond the fact it would most likely just cause retaliation, will never be released as an actual product.  This source claims that the inventor states that she spoke with prisoners that said they would think about not doing it if a woman was wearing one.  "Think about" are the operative words lady.  Stating that they would THINK about not doing something is not the same as stating that they would be deterred. I'm going with the comments from the men that said, women have other holes, or my favorite, it can be cut off with a knife (fucking romantic).
DOWP Non sequitor @pallidpen

A little less sweet, he promised
and delivered

If I could take the wish back
I don't think I fully understood what it meant
to be like them

and you don't feel it at first
as you are slowly dying

as you think
it doesn't matter
nothing matters
I don't matter

and then you figure out the secret
but it's too late
you are already like them
and your tears get stuck in your throat
and it does matter
but you can't take the wish back
it's too late

So the TV is playing one of those Bigfoot shows where I find myself hoping they really do find a Bigfoot and said bigfoot attacks and eats them because that would be awesome.I hear John asking what's that noise.  Before I could tell him that it's a bunch of morons that get paid to make braying noises to attract a non-existent animal, he comes to his own conclusion.
"That's a dog." He says, "what's wrong with that dog?"

He ponders for a minute and concludes. "It's making noise like a sheep."

I decided his explanation was better than mine.   He needs to narrate TV shows.

She would run to get lost in the breeze and to let it all go with a sigh.  It would all catch up to her, but in the moment, the sound of the ocean, her footprints, and her heartbeat were one.  She existed to be free.  Sometime she noticed the markers and tried not look back.  Counting them can get you stuck.

So many years ago when her body only ached if she scraped her knee,  and freedom was a feeling she took for granted.  She was sure that she didn't even recognize that giddy drug like feeling that floated her heart.  She can't remember what their parents were thinking.  Their parents, his and his sisters, and her parents.  She and time were cruel to her body, and she couldn't recall the reason.  Maybe it was when their youngest brother was being born.

There was pizza, sugar, candy, sugar, popcorn, movies, pillow fights, this boy, and sugar.  They stayed up as long as they could because nothing was going to stop us.  High on sugar, caffiene, and glorious freedom. The younger kids went to sleep first.  It was her and this boy and some movie about something.  This boy who made the world disappear when they kissed.

He was smiling at her so she smiled back and turned her eyes back to that thing they were watching on the TV.  He was still smiling at her when she turned her eyes back to him.  She remembered their first kiss underneath the eucalyptus trees.

"I have shingles."  He said not touching the area under his arms.

"I know."  She giggled.

"It hurts."  He whispered.

"I won't hurt you." She promised and pulled herself to a kneeling position.  She looked down on him from the couch and admired his face.  She thought he was cute and he introduced her to the concept of seaweed as a snack.  That made him cool.  She leaned forward to kiss him on the lips; this time a little less sweet than before..  She had learned to use her tongue.  He grabbed her face to prevent her from pulling away, but she could have if she wanted.

"I have shingles." he sighed.

"I know." She smiled, laid back on the couch, and pulled her Strawberry Shortcake blanket to her chin.  "Good night."

Then she was running again.  The same beaches.  The same ocean.  The marker further away.  She thinks that there should be more like this one, because then she wouldn't have to run as fast to get back that freedom.