and then she looked down over the city.  the rooftop was high and gave ample space.  space through which to fall and feel completely confident that the gap between the top and the bottom, would insure demise.  the people and cars seemed strangely sized.  the forced perspective feeling like just that- forced...  

and she thought of all the wonder that would occur in people's minds... she was pretty!  she was bright!  talented enough and even had money!  why why why?  why would she give it all away?  it would never, not ever, make sense.  not make sense to anyone but her...  

how she never really found a way to figure it all out.  that in the depths of the sickest depression... dreaming of the light... she actually felt safer than she did, with all the things she dreamed of.  how dreaming of the Brightness seemed now, so much more spectacular than Brightness itself.

how she always felt bitten.  sought after with malice and hated.  for no reason but the reasons her body produced, she felt like particles.  vapor.  easily waived about and manipulated.  effortless to destroy and without form.  how she fought every day to feel as though she wasn't dissolving...

broken.  i feel broken almost all of the time.