It was hard for her to feel. Her emotions cooled into a bitter stillness of nothingness. From disappointments. Disillusionment, faulty trust. Unbalanced loyalty. To disgust. What a way to live.
In the back alleys of existence. only to be overlooked, and caste away.

So many have come and gone. Fragments of intimacy and unfulfilled closure. Lasting just enough time to become a memory. Everlasting effects of love begotten and superficial friendships leave scares all over her back like a slave who has been whipped months prior.

The remembrance of many men, still lay upon her neck. Suffocating the emotions from her. For a lasting effect. Motionless she sits, as time and life scurry around her, begging her to be tempted. To reach out and pull herself up from the melancholy bars, and anger. Self hate.

-Nyque B.

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