The Sky

She ain't a writer. She's a listener, too ordinary to be noticed, but she's always there, listening to every bit of their stories.

It's her desire to make at least one's life better. But people overlooked, that she also wants to be understood. They took her for granted.

She was hurt. She kept it all to herself, never showed, until it became a poison, a torture, a scar.

One day, she realised, that all the poison she was holding in would eventually kill her, so she stopped torturing herself. She let it all go. She wanted to be free.

Then she finds herself, writing under the blue sky. The space is wide enough, for her mind to be free, wandering aimlessly in the never ending sky.