but my dreams they aren't as empty.

"For grief has always been so dear to your that you would make me writhing in pain in the brothel of your imaginations than to be playing with a bunch of balloons in the yard where I should have been."

"And maybe that's why, you'd rather talk to me about this, than to write a story about me where I could live happily."

- Sanhita Baruah.

----------------

A hand too full of strings that were cutting the bare palms as the struggle to hold on to everything was way to much for her because she did not seem to want to let it go because it would mean so much to her and she could not possibly let it go as she would rather just keep everything here with her where she could see them in plain sight everyday as they served as a reminder and a countdown to the day she will be reunited with the one who made the biggest difference in her life that no one else could possibly have done for her because she never bothered to open up to anyone and she never saw a need to so her life was pretty much just taking each day as it passed by and finding short term purposes in life to hold on to without having a need for any sort of recognition or interaction with anyone and she made sure to block out everybody in her life to make sure none of them could get through her walls and discover how much of a sad soul she was to the extent that she even flipped her mirror the other way so she could not even see herself and feel bad about herself as she had been thinking about how sad and pathetic her life seems to be while she was struggling to make sense out of everything and find some meaning that made sense to her and no one else could change her mind about anything because no one else was allowed to talk to her as the voices in her mind were far too intense and too loud that she could not even hear herself and they have become companions to her and she would happily talk to them every moment she had to herself even in the shower or while she was in and out of sleep and sometimes the voices would make her walk around in her dreams and she would not even know where the bruises came from and she wondered if she actually liked the pain that the bruises gave her for she would not have done those to herself even if she really wanted to as she would always hold herself back and as much as the voices were her companions she knew that they were evil and not meant for her to listen to because she ended up getting hurt when she least expected it and she has been fighting so hard her eyes are burning from the sweat and tears of trying to control the voices and the voices would tell her to just wash the eyes and get back to doing whatever she was meant to be doing which was to close the doors and windows and put the fan at a low speed where there would be no sound and she could only hear them and she did exactly as she was told and got used to it and she did not even realise that the white noise was greater than the silence and the floor was filled with items she refused to throw away but somehow she convinced herself that this is the way to live to block everyone out of her life and to live in solitary with all her things around her keeping her safe and making sure that she would never forget any memory ever until the day that she reunites with this stranger and he would help her to clean up the mess and maybe even get her out of this trance that has captured her soul for far too long that she has become someone she does not even know any more.

----------------

M.

as my conscience seems to be.

I have hours, only lonely.