paralyzed
Heart in my stomach
Throat blocked by air tonight
Twisted intestines
Reminding me that it's not alright
She slumped to the floor.
Just a few steps in her house and she crashed down, her body not supporting her and her heart in panic.
Her hands started trembling in the car, her eyes blurry, the last trace of control merely enough to get her safe to her own house.
She suffocates her sobs with the palm of her hands, but they resonate in the loneliness of her place. The shelter that should protect her just makes her grieve more harshly.
And no-one is there to ease her pain.
Her chest hurts, burns for the violent crying, for the heavy breaths she's forced to take. She doesn't care about stifling her agony anymore, she uses her hands to press against her head, trying to protect it, trying to heal it.
Her own mind is conspiring against her.
Both the superpower and the Kryptonite.
In an hidden, self-destructive battle, her mind is erasing itself.
And the cries are wrecking her body, her inside already so fragile.
She's losing the only thing that made her feel welcomed, useful. She used to be comforted by the data she spent hours searching, by the journals she finished reading at 3 in the morning, by the useless facts that at least made Jane laugh.
She's losing learning, knowing, the possibility to truly cherish life.
All the efforts she made to be of use to others are vanishing, fading away.
What an irony that she was able to bring peace to grieving families and save the lives of injured people but can't cure herself.
The process is so silent inside of her, though, so quite. Her mind is letting things go without her knowing. There's no physical pain to include her in the course.
She's left out, groping in the dark.
She, so curious and craving knowledge, can just wait till the next slip to know another word has already been canceled.
Science is failing her.
Science is failing her because her thoughts wonder toward reckless decisions, because she is craving pain to feel alive again and can't stop.
Her hands shake, but her body surrenders. Her cries die down, her limbs are tired and her chest still aching. Silent tears run down her cheeks.
The positive energy burning in her until last week shrivels, dissolves into dark oblivion.
No-one is there to pick her up, anyway.