a sudden itch
down her spine
she lays flat over
the black line
she sang and
she whistled and
she did not notice
the waste of time
drenched in colors
was her soul
of others’ words
she did not care,
at all.
she is sick of doing what
should not be done
for a house in which
she did not bother
and for a partner
she took nobody
and in the abyss
she stared
and in the abyss
in turn glared
is she excited
or is she scared
she is still silent
and the truth awaits
to be declared.