Dying Long Before

She lives without flux,

Hollow as her bones.

Every night she lights a lantern,

and waits to be taken home.

The barren halls of her home,

she cleans them every week.

She tends to all her duties,

to feel like she’s complete.

Sleep used to feed her mind,

her dreams would spark and shake.

Now when she lays,

she awaits another day.

Her parents raised her well,

they provided what they knew.

They told her to be safe,

and never leave her room.

They now lay in the earth,

time brought them down.

Their unrealized potential,

buried in the ground.

She has been alone,

she finds comfort in herself.

She retracts into her shelter,

she finds comfort in her cell.

Too proud to admit

She feels numb and wary.

Her life’s greatest creation

is her mental adversary.

Her room is her fortress,

the walls hold her soul.

Every night she lights a lantern,

and waits to be taken home.