The vivid vague

Touched by the essence of insanity,

falling apart and feeling numb,

She dreads to feel, but she cannot.

She walks the tight ropes and dances through empty

lanes,

Tangled hair marks her presence,

hanging by her bosom and filling up her chin,

but all she cares about, are her frivolous passions and

the silly thoughts, or is it just a game of fickle resolves.

Passionate about such insignificant things, they make

so much more sense to her,

but do people even get it, her dauntless aspirations?

To run far away and never come back is the only

twinkling star in her morbid sky.

Embracing the loneliness, but is she lonely indeed?

Does she need anyone?

Does anyone need anyone?