Her

Her forced smiles were intrinsic. Forged lips, enslaved by her thoughts. Hollow cheeks, strained by continuous contractions. Deep dimples, as if two bullets had left eternal wounds on her mellow face. Eye contact became redundant. Admiring stares, turned into glares of hopelessness. It was as though she was scarred of the future. For she could envision happiness, a far dream to her. Afraid. So, so, afraid. There remained an ample resistance behind her retina. Distorted visions, induced her will, to erode. Along with her heart. Her mind built barriers, so that the soul would stay. Yet the waves of uncertainty and bitterness obliterated them over night. We would awake from stillness. Witnessing our world, weeping in its ruins.

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