Strangled Pain

Just a figure in her room, her brain so hazy - staying in her bed while they call her lazy. Voicemails never sent full of sadness and fear; a strangled sort of pain never meant for others to hear. Something so deep you could drown in: a darkness so empty, nothing could be found in. A breathless prayer repeated to no one listening while she sits on the tile floor, ruby beads glistening. Like drinking cement, weighed down by the draining prospect. Vision, thoughts and hearing blurs as a shiver rocks the secrets she protects.