If Silence Could Speak

Remembering every insult, every humiliation, each tiny wrongdoing, she twists. Turns her pillow over, fighting a wee-hour battle with her worthy opponent: Insomnia. But such forces as the one we know intimately, yields to no shadow master.

Is This Me?

Is this me, it asks. Stumbling forward, searching for something long forgotten, breaking the silence that reigned here.

The Day I Decided

The day I decided to take another path was the day my Self had become lost, quivering in a cavity, awaiting the death she knew would come. Somehow, I felt that old pull, that inexplicable connection, that weak tingling of love forgotten, and I stretched out my hand.

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