Call it what you want
Surrender, retreat, apathy...
Perhaps it's nothing more than total disgust
And irreconcilable ​loneliness
She wants to go where someone gives a ****,
But no one does
And the boys are better off without the image
Of her fading slowly away in spirit
To die while one is still alive is more heinous a thing than to drop out of a race that you don't believe in, and never signed up for in the first place
Whatever the prize is, it can't be as good as the freedom of not having to go mad trying to protect oneself from the bitterness of their ugliness or the shallowness of their greed
And walking away from them doesn't help either
She's too ****** up to enjoy normalcy and too damaged to ever feel like she really belongs
She'd rather start over, and leave the jackals to feed amongst themselves, and the insects to writhe about, blindly in the dark
She might have felt differently, had they never lied to her about how much they loved...