Her insides glare. She is muffled by utter frustration unable to reach the closed mind that faces her. Mournful explosions from the depths inside. She is outraged by the soaked truth that none of it even stands a chance. One to the next just empty spaces. Her thoughts exploding and ideas of change constantly misunderstood. She holds no foundation for these, just a short lived breeze of something they need. She finds no satisfaction no joy or ease. Her arms full of what they'll never grasp or feel. A waste they say, why do you try. Surrendering to the fatal truth that she faces, she smirks and swiftly drifts away. On to the next.