I Can't Be who You Are

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Forgetting/all the hurt inside you learned to hide

so well pretending/someone else can

come and save me from myself

i can't be who you are.

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--Leave Out All The Rest--

LINKIN PARK

Dom stayed very still. Not a wisp of wind ruffled his hair. Not a flash of light illuminated his shockingly still irises.

Not a muscle moved or twitched. His face stoned into a mask of pain.

A suffering Adonis statue of human grief.

Poised at the edge of the cliff, it was a long, long way down. He didn't look behind him, he was tired of looking back.

Asides, if anybody stabbed him through the chest, they would find it empty and cold. So cold.

He wondered at times what that 'thumping' noise was. It's not like he still had heart, it was impossible.

"I can't be who you are," he whispered to no-one. The silence he got as the echoing answer didn't faze him.

He knew if it had been him to die and not her, well, she wouldn't be thinking of doing what he was about to.

She was so strong –had been. Practical. Smart.

He wasn't. Had Mithros decided to punish him, with the help of the Goddess? Was this his punishment for yelling at her?

He had told her he never wanted to see her again, and now he never would. Not in the mortal realms at least. They never fought, was this his punishment?

"I can't be who you are," And he wasn't. He was a monster, though he knew it was foolish, he couldn't help but blame himself for her death.

Be reasonable, her voice echoed in her mind, you weren't there.

But Domitan of Masbolle was beyond reason. Beyond inner strength and practicality.

He was a born commander, a natural leader, he had but to rely on his instincts, and his instincts were telling him to jump.

"I can't be who you are," he said again. I'm not as strong as you. I can't not cry. I lover you. I'm selfish. I need to hold you in my arms again. I need you. I'm not you, I cant hide my pain.

And he jumped.

In the realms of the dead a lone man sought passage across the river of souls, to the other side. A blue eyed sergeant stood on the rocking boat as he traversed the black sea.

Dom stayed very still. Not a wisp of wind ruffled his hair. Not a flash of light illuminated his shockingly still irises.

Not a muscle moved or twitched. His face stoned into a mask of impatience.

A suffering Adonis statue of eagerness.

He stepped off the boat and onto the black land of the dead. A smile lit his entire face as a woman strode forwards, pale as a ghost, feet not leaving imprints onto the ground.

They embraced, unwavered by time or torment.

Two lovers, lost into an embrace of love, time had no meaning.

"I can't be who you are," he whispered into her ear softly; "nobody can."


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Hmm, not sure where this one came from. I was listening to the music and writing an application for a student exchange to France for next year...hm...

Review!

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Keep Reading,

xxTunstall Chickxx

5/01/09

P.S. First day of school. Ugh.