So much happens in the space in-between.

In the silence I am tortured by my own thoughts.

A stream of conscious, a wave of wrath.

A cramped cell is where I sit as the dark clouds rush in.

A child left behind, a child beaten, a child who never loved herself.

She challenges her thoughts, she rides the waves, she repeats that it is all temporary.

Suffering is natural in a world meant to be created and destroyed.

All of this happens in the space in-between.