When she fell, she fell apart
she heard voices in her head
and echoes from the words they said
pounding harder than ever
getting louder and louder

That when she crashed, she cracked her bones ever so hard
her clothes were torn and she felt them disintegrate into the wind along with everything
and evеryone she evеr knew
and after she looked around, she realized,
her body was now naked, her skin covered in blood from the once closed scars
and wounds that she ever encountered, were now open
she winced in pain
she then started hearing the voices again:
“you are too hard to love”
“you will never be enough”
“your pain is not real, it is fake”
“everything you do, it will never be enough”
“everything you say, it will never be right”

As she lay there still on the ground,
her mind flooded with flashbacks and echoes
along with time machines and karma from past traumas
and also a love that was the idea of something actually real
not just the idea of something somewhat real
And as she rose up, she rose up ever so slowly
avoiding old haunting memories and skipping through cobble stones
Aware of broken promises, and little lies hidden in their teeth
with the devils in disguise, and their fake love-schemes
to all which at a moment in time that she actually believed

When she stood, she stood with a bleak knowingness
as she found herself being trudged into the empty darkness
as the heavy waves began climbing up to her body
trying to grasp for even the slightest of air, the tiniest of hope
while still being bathed in her own brokenness and tears
a softly spoken praise of strength that’s hidden in shields of amour would appear
in which she never thought she would ever have

She imagined a hard-broad shoulder standing next to her
that would be the love of something actually real
not just the idea of something actually being real

Finally, she found her way home,
and she started hearing the voices of new words:
“your heart can be breakable but never from the same poison twice”
and even louder:
“because of your past,
someday you will arrive-
no matter the violence or design,
that will play in your existence,
or the exquisite happenstance of it all”
But maybe in the death of it all,
someday, she will feel truly alive

But for now, this is what remains of her…