What a cruel fate; these women who live inside me. What a scatter, a hush, a bustle of activity, a wish for silence as our skin is touched.
What a tortured existence, the ending of the blissful discovery, when truth comes with the sunrise and lies disappear with the moon.
What an angst to carry, an anger undefined, many in one, intertwined in the darkness surrounded by a glow. If you could only know the sullen, and still love them, but these indifferent frames don’t bring authentic feel.
What a solitary run through this planetary blink. These women who are me, hold secrets of a girl. What a war of surviving the battles, staring daily at the scars, invisible to strangers whose walls block their view.
What a fall to choose , tortured to feel the agony of every passing earthling; their soul’s dying soaking into my being, a starfish beneath the seas. They drown me.
What a mask to wear, holographic in its design, changing with the seasons of my mind. I am translucent to the blind, in moments ceasing to matter, drowned by the chatter of silent lips obsessed with their own loneliness.
What a circle, the daring five, brave enough to fight to be alive, an army dwelling inside the one; a portal into the caves.
and right now, we are afraid.
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