Living starkly.
Never holding on.
Letting go the meaning.
Moving past the strain
of their emotions.
Identity stolen. Her soul
was in pain. Reaching out
for something that would
make her feel herself again.

Vacancy. The atmosphere
was stifling. An empty shell
that swelled before it burst.
Infectious intellectual composure.
Unconnected to a semblance
that let leisure enter in. As if she
had committed some great sin.
Condemned by minds once
linked to hearts that cared...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
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