She is breaking. There's a void in her tracks and no light ahead. The conflict between love **** and love lost is waging it's war on her fleshy shores. She can't seem to choose a side, it all looks the same. "It's a trap" she chokes.
She is freezing. Her frigid heart is icing over and her brain is going numb. A vicious cycle of meandering through brackish monotony - looking for a map - leads to where it all began. Repeat. "Nothing changes" she sighs.
She is vanishing. Whispered honesties go unheard amidst the cacophony of cross talk and empty words. Her absence goes unnoticed as a silvery ghost of her robotically relives her daily deeds. "Anchored in reality" silently.
She is caving. Breaking down like glass in a relentless tide, Little pieces of her are left to join the countless sand. She's finding there's no escape from this earthly purgatory for the damaged and ******. "There has to be more than this."