Upstairs in an isolated room

a girl sulks and hides under

her covers. Her continuous cry,

³it hurts, it hurts,² is heard by her

surroundings, and they regard the pain

as superficial and physical.

Inside she stumbles with

her heart, the beats skipping

and rushing. She continues to

cry and eventually the outside

spits through her windows

and whistles behind her back

but to her face. She runs to

close her windows and pull

the shades, she finds

her door being shoved, so she

blocks it completely, allowing

nothing an entrance. It finds

its way in and taunts her inside.

Now he looks for an exit, to

escape what she unfaithfully

let in. She wants to leap outside,

where she will perish with

herself, but sting in

their ears. Although she

finds it hard to survive in here,

she shouts above the

loud silence of nothing,

even though she is heard,

she is not always understood.

Some mistook her and

knocked at her door,

threat fully not mercifully, and

others pushed at her walls,

enclosing her in, leaving her trapped.

The pain grew,

even though it was an illusion

drawing blood, leaving her sobbing

herself that remains.