she is tired of crying for help into a void;
now between the sighs behind her commas & full-stops,
she communicates through her SILENT fingers
and as long as her pen bleeds on a blank paper
the turmoil in her mind rests
the sunless day feels more brighter
the moonless night a bit less darker
deadly stares from strangers does not bother that much
as long as she gets to read and write,
she knows things will be just fine