She looks around her, hoping to find a place to sit.
She looks for somewhere to rest her weary form.
She looks for a place she can be alone and tranquil.
She looks for somewhere she can mingle with the shadows.
She looks for a place she can shut out the world.
She wants to shut out the noise, the bustling of the comings and goings.
She wants to shut out the anger, the disappointment, the disillusionment.
She wants to shut out the painful betrayal, the disdain.
She wants to shut out the pity, the accusatory glances.
She wants to shut out the thick, searing, seething, overwhelming, consuming, staggering pain.
The invisible cruel hand of destruction holds her with a merciless iron grip.
The hand holds her in a cold, hard, cutting, tearing grasp.
The hand holds her heart in a grasp that leaves her breathless.
The hand chokes her heart leaving her battling for release, relief.
The hand oppresses her leaving her fighting for freedom.
She longs for liberty to live again.
She longs for lighter steps to skip for joy again.
She longs for a lighter countenance to smile again.
She longs for a lighter heart to hope again.
She longs for a lighter load to stand tall again.
She remembers how life used to be.
She had a bright, lovely open countenance.
She had a relaxed forehead and cheeks creased with a lovely smile.
She held her head high looking ahead with confidence.
She held herself straight, shoulders thrown back, her gaze confident.
Now the weariness had set in.
Now the brokenness had set upon her.
Now the bitterness was suffocating her.
Now the uselessness she felt was suffocating her.
Now the powerlessness she felt had set upon her.
Her heart lay bleeding. Shattered by the tragedy that obliterated her once tranquil existence.