Neo Cassandra



I have a gift.
I am haunted by spirits of what could be.
I look into the smile of a woman in her prime 
and see the flesh drip off her cracking bones.

Every blossom withering.
Every baby in the grave.
My gift.

A gift with power, hope.
I can change it-
This dreadful future need not be!
The living may die,
The dead live on,
The fire is lit elsewhere,
the bullet never comes.

There is no such thing as fate, really
Not in my reality. 
Reality.
A funny word when
the lines of flesh merge with blood and bone,
sanity with insanity.
a thousand possibilities rollicking in my head 
death, life, birth, murder…
oh...which path is this again?
Can I help you?
Can I hurt you?

A life I saved lives on to take five lives;
Each a presence gone from the world that was ne'er supposed to leave.
Another person without their soul mate.
A cure without its creator.
A nation without its leader.

Who decides which path is the best for the future?
Which life should be allowed to live?
What impact is the least destructive?
Worst of all,
How do I help you when I look at you
And only see the 1000 ways you die?
A gift?
A curse.

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