Lost

"Five feet to the left and unhappy, that's where your spirit is.", he said to her. She always knew something was missing but couldn't pin point on her map to find it. It was never there. Her spirit lingers behind her back trying to catch up with her but it never does. Only leaving scratch marks on her mind trying  to remind her to just stay still and think. Find herself so her doors could open for her spirit to get in. But she stays in enigma,contemplating but forgetting in an instant of what changes she should smooch inside her head.

The doors might open in a day, a week, or a year but she is not lifting her brain cells to think. Living in a rue, procrastinating, starting something and letting it go in an instant, and blame others for her crooked mistakes. She still lives with a deluded forgiveness she gives herself every time she goes to sleep. Believing tomorrow will be better but it never is and now she is on her death bed of life. She sleeps on it day in and day out, and it feels home for her. A home of no colors shouting to be noticed,to be loved or hated. She is just there not even for herself,awaiting nothing. She could have been molested again and that would not have mattered to her.

Her spirit gave up and now it rots in the air. A carcass of the wind, it rises and falls with it. And her body softly gave out letting her see a void flashing before her eyes. She breathed her last agonal gasp and she went stiff all at once as if an impenitent sorcerer casted a spell on her. Him knowing she is better off dead than oxygen being wasted on a girl who is lost but not missing.