I tried to outline and describe every curve of her,
and for the first time I never wrote about someone’s pain so well.
Every arch had a mark and those dried tears no longer had a story to tell.
She was breathless and it was that moment she wondered how she managed to carry herself throughout her days..
From head to toe left hieroglyphics,
that only the soul in the pupil of her eyes could decode accurately..
During hours of the day she would look at herself in the mirror and laugh,
not laughter of joy but shame.
The laughter to keep many smiling around her and with her
is that same laughter that harassed her.
She questioned her thoughts and feelings.
That sharp pain she felt growing from the inside of her heart began to flow from the rib cage down.
Disintegrating into what she once was.
Nothing..
Pray for the hurt..
– Brielle KD.
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