She didn't scream, though it might have helped douse the fire raging inside. She was required to be meek, to instruct her demons to eternally hide. She was needed in that household, she wished she were wanted instead. She was provided for over there, but she wished she was loved instead. Her story was anybody's guess, It wasn't for herself she lived, so why bother to tell? She was hollow, it scared her to cease feeling; but emotions didn't rise, the tears didn't well. The dynamics changed with the smallest act, A kick, a faint kick from within her. For the first time, in a long time, she smiled, and if you looked closer, you could see a tear. No, she was never loved, But she was grateful for a chance to love instead. She was never wanted, but all despair vanished, just fled. Being a woman was no joyride, but for this she would go through all the pain. She would go through anything for the entity within her, Again and again and again.
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