To let her spirit dance, and set her free - if only. Her own body is her cell. Entranced by birdsong, nature's melody - she yearns to heed their call, but feels unwell
day after day. It's not a "lifestyle choice". Some "choice": to just be stuck indoors again. Talks to herself - checks she still has a voice. Facebook, Twitter and You Tube keep her sane -
and make her crazier, at the same time: the friends she talks to, but can never touch. Reality has reason, yet no rhyme. Daydreams are her escape. She dreams too much.
When she comes back, it's always with a crash. It hurts each time. You'd think that she might learn. Maybe she'll see it - once her dreams are ash - once the final flames are duly extinguished, never to return.
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