Her nails were chipped.

They where green as a beautiful beetle yet when you saw them you could feel her pain.

The underlying growing pain.

The way the color faded.

The way they broke under pressure.

Who knew that she would break too?

I couldn’t imagine her.

Her pain.

I can see her clear as day, she stood by the door leaning against the frame.

She’d speak and no one would hear it.

No one could hear it.

She was silent.

Invisible.

Even if we could hear her voice we would still ignore it.

She dug her own grave.

Now she must deal.