She gathered herself, finding a distant glossy silken line of bone, her chest was heavy with regret, her eyes filled with smoke.
Oh what a horrible daughter, here she was again, back in the same place, with nothing moving forward, why can't she seem to lock in?
She doesn't want to make the same mistakes, yet leftovers leave a sticky residue that sears through her ribs, it's hard enough being alive.
Her thoughts are disbanding, dispersing her soul into the air.
The rabbit hole is never ending and it takes her deep into the bizarre, how far will she go before the feathery hillside swallows her whole?