She responds with quick wit and a hasty tone, giving up. She says the words that materialize in her brain, unwilling to entertain a second thought. This dialogue is engrained into her foundation like breathing. No holds barred, she subconsciously thinks… as word by word she lays out her truth.
She hears with an open mind and a sensitive soul, guard up. She listens, realizing her guard never was up. The silence is thunderous, but the words are deafening. Each line, strikes like peculiar shock therapy. She opens her arms, in a welcoming embrace.
She can taste the bitter reaction. It’s bland, yet disgusting. It stains her mouth with the same disposition from where it emerged. With a tint of frustration, anger, irritation, and hopelessness… just keep moving. The aftertaste won’t last long.
She watches, concretely engaged, the battle as it extends into a blurry realm. A mislaid road. A route that is indistinguishable from the fog. She speaks it, hears it, sees it, yet she still doesn’t believe it.
She touches it. Her eyes, ears, and mouth are now forced to believe it. You see, it’s real now. It is done. While her body awkwardly absorbs this clearly projected new reality, her brain scatters, unwavering. The questions roll into her head like the billowing clouds of a dark, endless storm. She gets lost, roaming until she can find her way back.