By Alia Gupta
It's all a haze; she sits down with grace,
The world quiets down,
Muffled voices, blurry all around
The rhythm of her heart
Loud and clear, scaring away the numb pain that's near
Her eyes are red, her eyelids wet, her hair's a message; as she starts to disassociate
She can hear them laughing,
But she's lost.
Moments ago, inhaled and brushed off
Her head's hurting, and hands are shaking,
But it's not pain.
It's pure elation.
It's pleasure.
She's never been happier.
As she's all alone, all alone
In a world filled, filled and full
She's not a fighter, nor so noble; she never was
That was it, her home. There she was smiling as she'd finally find one.
By Alia Gupta
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