Lately, she sighs with the passing hour.
Time crawls by at a snail's pace,
and yet it is a whirlwind of activity.
She watches as the day passes her by
and her limbs move slowly
through the heavy fog of exhaustion.
Dark circles hang heavily,
shadowing her eyes from the world.
Her jagged nails are her only source of comfort
as her nervous habit of biting them has returned.
The world is cruel to the innocent,
and only ceases when
it has broken those who least deserve it.
In Fate's spiteful eyes, she is sufficiently broken.