Her mouth intensely speaking the truth of her past lies.
Her head down, speaking meaningless interruptions.
Her face tightening, trying to forget.
Her hands shredding the memories of the hurt.
Her eyes changing with her emotions.
Her breath hollow and helpless.
His voice so soft that the wind carries it out of the open window into the night.
Her body twirling in circles.
The floor cracking by the weight of thick air.
Her soul crawling out then dumped onto the ground.
His words still lingering, gliding in sync with the racing bullet.
Her ears each beating to his song of intimidation.
Her lips screaming the yields of death.
Her toes jerking to the crimson door.
Her legs contorting into shapes of terror.
Her arms shrinking into portions of regret.
Herself = herdeath.
