#34

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in the darkest
nook of the
cold room, she
corners her
frangible being,
hugging her
brittle bones,
with all the
strength her
weak body
could offer,
while her
forehead kisses
her knees, and
for the first time,
she pleads the
intense silence,
to speak
something else
than the echoes
of her own
heartbeats, but
all she's got as
a reply is the
rhythmic sound
of her pulse.
for the first time,
she begs the
unshed tears to
fall like heavy
droplets of rain,
and wash the
pain that's
eating her insides,
but the tears
refuse to bow
down to her, so
they remain glued
to their throne.
for the first time in
forever, she
entreats the skies
for a moonbeam
that might split
the darkness of
the night, but
the friendly
moon is hiding
behind the
curtains of the
thick clouds,
allowing the
obscurity to
swallow her
alive .

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