their families are broken.
shattered, wrecked, torn. splashes of black have ruined the once-upon-a-time pristine paintings of their homes.
parents are unable to comprehend how their bright-eyed baby girls have grown into these sad-eyed lost causes. they don't know why their daughters are filled with such misery.
and even though it's hopeless, these mothers and fathers don't give up in trying to understand.
they shout, "what is in your head? tell me, what is in your head?". they shout it so loudly - so desperately. but the today girls cannot hear them.
not over the groans of the zombies*.
* - the parts of us that have died too early, and are trapped inside our skulls to forever plague us with melancholy.
