There are no words. I crumble. This heart so broken. Denied of what makes sense. Filled with shame. Frightened. Who is she now? She comes from no one. All that defined her gone. Daughter. Wife. Mother. She is lost.
Peek inside. There is no happiness. Her life a façade. This game she plays. Tell me who I am today. Chameleon. Master of disguise. The great pretender. She is no one. Empty.
This machine. A fairy tale. The house where she lived a nameless street passing time. This dream. She belongs to no one. Does she matter I wonder. Who claims this lost soul.
Borne of seed. Nurtured. Coveted. Beloved. Who is she now? Who kisses this salty tear or holds her hand tightly in sleep. Who beholds her beauty in wonderment and awe? Her tangled hair moist with fallen tears lay in tendrils about a dampened pillow.
An overhead fan whirs gently beckoning her further into sleep. A troubled mind fraught with fear. Who stands with her keeping her strong helping her to breathe and giving her comfort?
She sits alone quite. Uncertain in the face of the unknown. Who loves this girl – who loves this girl?
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