from beneath the steadiness of her convictions,
a minute quiver of doubt
gave rise to seismic realization.
a rather austere ordeal,
like the waning of a summer's moon,
from which springs fall.
sitting in the bulwark she'd built for herself,
she feels satisfaction as she absorbs the fumes,
her personal ritual complete.
the floor grew distant, and the walls began to melt.
a cascade of sparks danced across her neurons,
and chemicals saturated her brain.
her soul expanded; her mind widened.
her breathing became ragged, and her heart frantic.
moments passed by as hours.
thoughts blurred through her mind.
streams of consciousness streaked past.
the brainstorm flooded the streets.
her train of thought sped along,
and as suddenly as the insight came,
it dissipated into polychromatic smoke.
the numbness slowly drained from her fingers.
her thoughts became sluggish in comparison,
as the euphoric edge evanesced.
tears rose in her eyes as waves of nausea swept over her,
and pain erupted in her head, within which,
the sound of her uneven breathing reverberated endlessly.
after the agony had passed,
she returned to the outside world,
drowsy and disoriented.
the jaundiced stares of her former peers pierced her.
each word that she spoke, disregarded,
and every action judged.
she felt the weight of their censure,
but the heavier encumbrance was her basic need,
to fill each breath with her death sentence.