She was trying, so desperately,
To outrun the quiet loneliness of the world.
She held vendettas against the sinister silences that haunt goodbyes,
Against the fading shades of love,
Against the quietness in a voice that speaks to a desertion of love; a death.
(The monsters of her heart).
However, there is a certain bravery in her desperation for life.
To escape the oceans of regret,

To escape a certain brokenness.
For bravery lies in her conviction to live,
To find an irrevocable truth in another,
To deceive the shadows of longing.
In the face of undeniable malice and grandure.
In the fear of feeling nothing at all.
For in the end,

When the silence is deafening,
With a weariness that electrocutes,
And a tiredness of the heart.
She wanted it all to have mattered.
-

*"Do you think I'm pretty?"
I think you're pretty."