Nothing extraordinary, nothing big.
She is not famous, in contrast, dull.
Nothing special.
All this, she thinks.
A belief for lies.
‘Maybe I’m not meant to live.’
Thoughts pervaded her mind.
Every one tinted black.
Lasting hours, killing love.
Love for life.
Acting is not in her future.
Nothing is hidden.
Her face is an open story book.
She suffers.
Chemical imbalance.
He reads her story.
Raw, in the open,
Infected.
Beautiful.
The contrast, unique.
Different.
‘There could never be a more beautiful you.’
He attempts to convince,
But she holds to her faith and beliefs.
The belief of lies,
Everything familiar to her.
He holds his faith and beliefs,
‘Never give up.’
Time and care is the medicine.
The medicine for addiction,
Addiction to lies and faults.
Smaller dosage, at first.
But it is just the right amount.
Increased daily,
Her cancer is being cured.
The blackness courses her blood, no more.
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