what i want is to be blessed
what i want is a cloak of air
the light entering my lungs
my love entering my body
the blessing descending
like the sky
sliding down the spectrum
what i want is to be
aware of the spaces between stars, to breathe
continuously the sources of sky,
a veined sail moving,
my love never setting
foot to the dark
anvil of earth
I don't know what I'd do if he ever hurt the baby.
I wonder about it sometimes. I think I'd kill him, although I'm not sure. I hope I'd kill him. I think. I don't know if I'd use magic, or my bare hands, but the very thought of him hurting Severus makes me want to make him suffer, which scares me. I think I'd tear out his heart with my bare hands sometimes.
I no longer want to be the person he's turning me into.
Sometimes I think I'll just go. I wish I'd done it when I was pregnant. An actual squirming baby is a lot more difficult to cope with than a large belly. And he's always there; ever since he lost his job he never leaves the house. I don't see how I could take the baby and go without him knowing. And if he caught me leaving, would he hurt the baby?
I don't know what I'd do if he hurt the baby. I don't want to know.
He's always so sorry afterwards. He should be sorry. Sometimes I wish he'd really hurt me, so the guilt would last longer. Long enough for me to leave, perhaps.
This is not the life I want. This is not the life I want for my child.
I don't know what happened to the man I married. I don't know when he turned into this. I don't know when I turned into the sort of person who would stay with someone like this. He's hit me before; he'll hit me again. He'll hit me and choke me and maybe he'll kill me next time.
This is not the life I want.
What I want is to take my baby and go. Sometimes what I want is for him to die. Sometimes what I want is for him to be the person he used to be, but that won't happen.
I don't know what's going to happen to Severus, growing up like this.
I don't know what I'd do if he hurt the baby.