You won't find her
hidden under the bubbles.
She won't feel
the far reaches of pain
she has buried
in the realm
of her heart.
She doesn't talk
and moves
in a dreamlike
state.
Her friends whisper
but she knows.
She knows darkness.
The taste of it
regurgitates
up the back of her throat
and chokes her.
She floats in time.
Time that is lost.
Echoes of it,
tick tock
and
somewhere one day
you might see her
amidst and among you.
Touch her.
She needs.







.. 
But of course she does; how could she not??? This is a pensive & pure penning, Poet. Good luck in the contest, my Friend.
15 old applause
