It becomes
It becomes morning in the silent house where the woman tastes the bitterness of life. She gets up naked and cold much earlier than she has to. She can't sleep. So many thoughts screaming in her. She reflects upon the power of genetics when she sees her legs in the mirror and the weakness of her soul. She wonders: what to do next? Life has never seemed so oblivious before. She didn't rest after all. Hours and hours in bed and her thoughts kept her awake. Feeble body, creative mind. Illusions pouring from her. She usually comes up with plans she soon forgets. She still waiting for that small piece of perfection everyone gets. Firework love. Stability. Resilience. The right amount of intelligence. The right words coming out of her mouth. The non-revelatory questions. Health. But it seems like that little corner just didn't happen in the life she was given. She sees life from far away. Hidden in the faces of strangers who seem so much happier and alive. Alive in the more mund