Never enough! this hideous mantra that started so long ago, again boldly proclaims her ineptness. Hands clenched in quivering fists, she paces her bedroom glaring at the mirror each time her teary, impovrished eyes caught sight of its reflection. how could i be so stupid to fall for this again? This question provides the answer to the mantra, she decides, yet she knows that it is not that simple.
there must be an answer. Her logical mind is searching for a single shread of logic, something that she can grasp hold of and steady her herself - if for only a brief exculpation.
desperate she reaches for the cabinet. it is not a gun she seeks. no, that would require courage, honesty, a clear admission of willpower. her reach is one of blurred spinelessness.
the liquid is warm as is hits her empty stomach, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. she sees again the mirrors' painting. this time it portrays a dishevelved, but smiling girl. the clenched fists have relaxed; the furrowed brow now a dejected wave. demented i must be, she thinks, to enjoy this. she knows that it will be much worse latter and there will be no smiling then, from anyone.
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