the word reverberated in the cavern of her mind, echoing off of hollow and ledge.
The word tasted sharp and bitter in her mouth, tinged with sorrow.
The word scampered across her thoughts, running in circles in her head.
It was a state of being, a hollow in which she hid.
She felt so closed off from the rest of the world, behind the shutters of her mind.
Her face gave nothing away, but oh, inside her mind, how words echoed and danced, trapped, longing to be shared with another human being.
But her nexus was no more, her connotation of communication apocryphal.
She was separated from them, but why?
Why? She asked in the shadowed corners of her brain whence she hid.
Why must I remain cut off, alone, locked lungs behind ribbed bars, soul that longs to soar anchored by frail human life?
Is this of my own doing? She demanded an answer from herself.
Must I remain this way?
And audibly, she heard— It is a choice that you have chosen, and the answer is no.