Every day...
She feels little, less important, unworthy, truly worth less than she should.
Her intention questioned, her loyalty untrusted, her support unnoticed, her truths unbelieved.
Tired, regretful, unstable, she walks the thin line between sane and …... not so much.
She's reminded of every mistake she's ever made, so unforgiven, no matter the indiscretion...
How can you harbor that much anger, how can you see through that haze?
What is it like to be so full of hate?
Threats made, same story, selfish demands, unwavering pride.
You wonder where she is, that woman you knew before..... chased out the door.... sent away.
Took for granted, unappreciated, chastised, hated.....................
Ate up. Gone.
Sometimes -- rarely -- there is a glimpse of her............................................................
You apologize -- appreciate -- confess adoration.........................
She peeks over her wall, trying to see the one she loves -- he’s there -- if only for a moment.....
Only a moment.
(she misses him)
Gone though... no matter how hard she’s tried -- she can’t come back
-- from that place she’s built for herself.
Every day -- a. little. less. important.
