CHOICE

’I was scarred—a scar so profound it started to swallow her.

Reminiscing, the steps that were supposed to be the fundament became a corpse;

a corpse that she hoisted,

and it became hefty—heavier…

as her footsteps pondered.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this—or was it?

Was she really brought into being to be full of woe, to be kindled, to suffer?

Although, the first lesson that she ever learned—forthrightly—

was that life wasn’t meant for her.

Now, what should she do?

Will she just let fear that she doubtfully presumed to be true

slowly devour her "life"?

Or would she choose the fantasy she always dreamt of—

to cease to exist?