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.