The preliminary years had long back gone through the transition phase, leaving me distraught, holding onto a ghost of a person,
This chaotic sense of mind allows thoughts to visit the dark senses, the theological senses, the playful phases, and sink back into oblivion.
How is it possible to return to innocence?
Those days were sweeter than honey where there were no cares, no regrets as the Sun rose from the brightening sky and sunk to the beautiful fading tones of an ethereal magnificence no longer recognised nor acknowledged today.
She grew up surrounded by four-wheeled vehicles that exhaled plumes of grey waste, driving past the countryside where her mind opened its borders to even more realisms.
Her days were silenced; factories breathing out ashy grey gusts into the night sky, and somehow she saw it as beautiful.
Everyone told her she was beautiful being, but deep down, even she could tell that she was a different girl.
All those years, she was silent, a puppet whose strings were cut off. She was wasted, no longer youthful.
And so being a disposed piece of show, she continues to marvel at her own hardships, longing for something new to embrace.