sevgi
IB Expert
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The pain was nothing she could put into words...but the only thing she could do was express it. She had no outlet, no one to tell, no one to cry to. She started writing this in hopes that one day her pain would be understood by someone out there and she would feel a sense of sympathy from a stranger. But she believed wholeheartedly that this was not going to happen. In order to fathom her pain, one had to be her because only she was who she is. Only she had lived the life she lived. Only she had experienced life as she knew it and only she carried the attributes she did.
She was in pain. A very real pain. A pain that no one could contain, maintain or retain. A pain that could not be repressed or expressed. This was a pain like no other. She was love, a “globule of light”. She was put on this earth to love, to feel, to believe. This was the pain of her purpose being ripped from her. This was the pain of her core being ripped from her existence. This was the pain of her hope being thrust into the lion’s den. This was the pain of her dreams being liquefied. This was the pain of her reality disappearing in the blink of an eye.
The story behind this pain is so painful she could not put it into words. She would stare blankly at this page until one day she could tell her story. She would carry this burden until her heart stopped beating. Her cause of death will be no mystery. Her pain will take her last breath just as it has taken her all. Thriving on her last few breaths, this is all she could express. This is all she could let out. This is all she had detangled. The pain; nothing more, nothing less.
She was in pain. A very real pain. A pain that no one could contain, maintain or retain. A pain that could not be repressed or expressed. This was a pain like no other. She was love, a “globule of light”. She was put on this earth to love, to feel, to believe. This was the pain of her purpose being ripped from her. This was the pain of her core being ripped from her existence. This was the pain of her hope being thrust into the lion’s den. This was the pain of her dreams being liquefied. This was the pain of her reality disappearing in the blink of an eye.
The story behind this pain is so painful she could not put it into words. She would stare blankly at this page until one day she could tell her story. She would carry this burden until her heart stopped beating. Her cause of death will be no mystery. Her pain will take her last breath just as it has taken her all. Thriving on her last few breaths, this is all she could express. This is all she could let out. This is all she had detangled. The pain; nothing more, nothing less.