Across the room there were no curtains, not even a door. There were no lights, no windows, no bed nor a chair. Within the room there was the world that produced the world she bears. Who stands before a mirror how numb she is. More the world outside the mirror was still and void; more the world outside the room was so dark and cold. Here before the mirror visions of pain and remorse seeped through the walls that no flower could never grow. A salty sea would wash her away into the essence of that so painful. To and fro the seas descend into the room and traverse her into the most painful – no light to light her past for all to see, only to feel.
This mirror ere bespoke still stands, however long the waves crash, however strong the winds will tear her away. She still lives, still to see her walking through the waves. Every memory passes through each wave and shifts through day and night, not that it would matter where she was; no one would hear her; no one would see her. These memories that come to life with each breath, that with each breath her scars return; however mortal she is, her memories will remain immortal. Read More