Everyday she fell asleep
to the astonishing silence
That shut the brightness of her soul,
To an extent
Where she heard the silent screams,
Of her throbbing heart.


As each day passed, it got worse.
The faint murmurs turned into roars,
Echoing through the empty hallways
Where you would find lonely shadows
Desperate for any hope that screamed, "adaptation".


And by every push, there would come laughter,
Reflexing away everything that mattered.
The venue of her soul now became a place she feared, to the practice of anticipation.


The profanities that came closer to the heartbreaking truth, punished her.


Although the only thing that made her smile was the pain, in itself.