Fictional

The dream keeps reoccurring but

No truth to show.

A fairytale she holds on to,

yet she is letting go.

What’s the point? She asks,

Feeling continuously disappointed.

The simplest thing feeling like a task,

Needing rebirth, maybe to be anointed.

She has cried, almost died—never relaxed.

She has watched and reflected,

Understanding she truly is a catch.

Years have turned her soul into a withering hole,

She truly has no hope.

Many would call her sad, maybe even cold.

She feels that she is at the end of the rope.

She’s learning and maybe even yearning,

but patience has become a lost treasure.

Her usual, non-harmful thinking is returning

Solitude beginning to be a pleasure.

Worth almost as much as she wants,

Yet she’s always told how to flaunt.

Worry, anxiety has swallowed her heart,

The smile she holds just keeps falling apart.

Lost dreams and a reoccurring depression,

What is left of her?

A thought of an ongoing battle to conquer? Amazed at her lifeline...

She doesn’t know her purpose anymore.

She truly doesn’t understand what she is here for.

So why feel? Why heal?

What is at the end to believe? Her goals become farther to achieve.

Melanin filled with riches but she feels deprived.

A joke for her heart to beat alive...

Let her wings grow and she can be a fairy.

Something “made up”, whatever makes the dejection carry.

Her imagination grows, can she tell what’s reality still ?

She’s stuck in a glamorous nightmare...

How can I get her to feel?