She who walks these shadowed corridors is a broken she.
You don't see me
A soul who finds in life only torment.
A broken echo left by something other, something not of this world
This darkness around her holds only one guttering flame of happiness, and with one word, you can plunge her into darkness.
She who holds on so tight, but always has to let go
She breathes as she walks, she speaks, she thinks.
I don't think she knows what she's holding on to
She holds no tears, just emptiness, only emptiness in this oblivion.
Why is there air around me to breathe when I don't want to breathe to begin with
She sees this world as a hole, a gaping, gaping hole, of which the rest is nothing.
Never stopping never stopping
She holds this hole inside herself as well, and it strangles her, her breath, her words, her thoughts.
Emptiness, only emptiness
She is a shell, who cares not, feels not, takes I'm not what she sees, for she does not know how to see, or care to try.
Her limbs are heavy and her mind can't but scream for rest
She sees this world as nothing, a broken, broken nothing.
Why is there still something left here?
There are no answers to see or lies to feel.
For it is she who feels nothing
Shadows and starlight do nought to convince her.
This twilight, this ending, this beginning
In the end it all belongs to her.
YOU ARE READING
Realisation
General FictionUp, up, up. And out, and out, and out. Out until your finger tips touch the stars. Until theres no room left for breath. The shadows and the hurting. Only stars. And it's calm. And calm and calm and calm. It's calm and you breathe and you breathe. T...
