Seeing the evidence there, before her
On the page, she shook as every
Moment spent between them,
Each escape into
That precious, quiet place once
Held deep within and
In the kindest of ways
Now, instantly felt hollow and that, like
Glass- was ready to shatter

Jest, not jive was the word for the previously
Unseen and unknown extent of the
Staggering falsehoods
That formed the rapidly

Decaying foundation on which she,
In the throes of the ever so
Dangerous state of content once stood.

Now, she could feel that floor crumble, the
Old beliefs breaking apart into a
Torrent of new found lies,

And memory stealing, unyielding
Deceits; the splinters gouging
Deep wounds into the flesh and

Unto the spirit.   No other was like her, for
Presently, she was the other.