She does not know.

.. Why the letters that spells his name suddenly feels everglowing.
.. Why she suddenly wants to know him, even though she has never seen him before.
.. How he can feel present, when she knows he is as passing as a summer breeze.

So he is gone and she is down there.
And I bet he is just fine.

But she has come to cope with being in re-bound world.
It was quite lonely there though.

She wishes him to be onesided and illusional.
But what is there if it was not the thrill of him not being so?
Probably a whole lot, yet not enough.

She is tired of being blank.
Mostly, she is sick of being tired.

They do not need to speak, just stop her from shaking.
Her intentions might be selfish but they are never bad.

Like lost pieces of the almost finished puzzle.
Scattered Scrabble letters.

So you can shake her words up.
Twist and turn them, and spin them around.
It does not matter when they are lost anyhow.

Every day is a different mess.
Another unfortunate decision for momentary bliss.

Her mind is her cage, where she sits like a pet rabbit.
Casually gnawing the corners, hoping for escape.
But still trapped in the unpleasantness that is her norm.
When she is there she does not know who she is.
Maybe some day she will break free.
Snear someone in, who can let her loose.

So here her words ends like they begun.
  .y h w    w o n k    t o n     s e o d     e h S
And that is how she will keep it, until it changes.


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