From the heart;  love is presumed to be spoken from, sadly a lost location.

What a sin to be placed upon a person's hidden soul of trust.

She dreams in black, a tinted vision of one's morbid definition of existing.

She tries to swallow the dryness that has consumed the inside of her tired eyes, keeping her awake.

Wanting to breath as they slowly shut, this being the only motion that portrays no harm.

All she wants is to drive a stake deep through the thickness of these dreary sensations.

To sweep them away, until another day.