'The way it is'

she thrived on discord and imperfect ideals
or so she claimed to anyone who would listen
but in truth it was only the moments of near-discord
while she was still firmly in control
of the imperfections she most identified with-
those were her best times
the moment that control was lost-
which could be traced back, incidentally,
to a late winter late night
late in the week-
at that moment she actually listened
to someone else
and stopped living only by her own truths
she cracked
completely disintegrated into misery
and immediately gave in
upon the realization
that the world she loved
didn’t exist except to/for her
for a while it was bad
everyone around her
stood on a distant shore
watching her drown on dry land
with disturbingly dry eyes
I want to tell you
that she got better
but that would be a different story
the only thing that improved
was her ability to fake a life
she couldn’t even bother to live.
the end