Always feeling contemptible, she went deeper into an emotionless void.
She wondered if this perpetual cycle would end.
Over the years, she slowly became more and more tractable. She had let everyone walk over her. She let everyone bring her down.
Her feelings grew irrepressible. She grew exhausted from all the ignominious words everyone told her.
She began to doubt that people would show empathy posthumously. She blithely kept her emotions to herself.
Little did she know, that would lead her to her downfall in life.
Manifestly, she started missing class. To her it was liable that she would feel better if she was isolated.
Indignation built up in her. She was lost in a hellish void. She couldn't take it anymore, all she wanted to do was repose.
She reconciled to the fact that she was worn down and exhausted from feeling shattered.
Without superintendence, she wrote down her haunted thoughts.
She composed poems to aid her along everything she has gone through.
Unfortunately, all the work she did was in vain.
Nothing seemed to help her.
One of the poems she wrote happened to be this very one.
It also happened to be her last..
