She stares at the falling leaves, wondering why they seem so peaceful and free. The crisp, cold air blows into her soul. Her lungs fill with icy water from the calming stream below, yet the cool liquid fails to drench the violent fire that possesses her heart. Sounds of the forest echo in her ears, but she is deaf to their beauty. So far from civilization, she remains emotionally entangled within its confines. Tree trunks speak; whispering like the skeletons from home she so desperately seeks to escape. Ghosts still howl amongst the bare branches despite the distance from inner demons. Running from a soul entwined in consequences, gushing blood from internal thorns. Gulping for oxygen, lungs filled from frigid, clean water offered so willingly from the peaceful, innocent stream. As darkness slowly, thankfully pushes the eyelids closed, she embraces freedom for the first time. Even thought scorching hellfire set by other hands consumes her fleshy vessel, she accepts; like always she believes she is the fault, the one to be blamed. She begs whoever will listen, anyone at all, to slit her throat of naivety, liberate her, and grant her tranquility; this is desperation.