Maybe she screams while you sleep. Maybe her heart can't take the pain. Broken glass shards on the floor where she had lain. Misplaced figures of blonde hair blued eyed dolls everywhere, and in her mind those years as a child flew by. This was not the toy house and Ken was as north is to south. Distant, unresponsive to even the cries of the little girl sobbing in between gasps for air.
"Is this what you wanted!" She yells, looking up at the hollow shell of the woman who had dreamed so high even the soaring birds seemed to marvel at her feet. Now she only crawls on the floor with the ambitions that were beaten out like the dust on the welcome mat. With silence as her only company she breaks even more...
Maybe you can't hear her screams because you sleep with closed ears; While the knife flows upon each finger and presses against the wrist, her mind is fragile. Has death ever been yearned for more than right now? The idea reaches her mind only long enough for Fear to pull it back,.. to the same corner where those trembling knees reach the top of her head concealing a cracked face.
Do you see her? Will you listen to the screams she cries while the World continues to move forward, leaving her in the distance only looking back between the gaps of the sand glass. She doesn't move anymore, she doesn't hide behind the lights that blind so many staring into the mirror's edge, yet never realize that the screams are yours...
