Fifty Three

The world is in constant motion and those who passed by at one point are going to come back their someday, to complete the journey full circle.

That’s what Cage believed in, he believed he was going to see his sister someday. It was called hope, faith. Or like Emily Dickson described it. Hope is the thing without feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all. The kind of hope he had was dangerous. It was the kind that destroyed you and ate you alive inside. I knew how it felt like, it was a hopeless, desperate way to go, one that would always end in misery.

I had wanted to tell him that that’s how I used to feel like when my mama went away. Some strong kind hope that she would be back and pick from where she left. Pick the broken pieces and fix them back together. It was positive hope at first, the first few years when I saved money and bought her a dress, she liked and new shoes from a nearby store. Then went ahead to draw many picture