My eyes slanted, small as they are, see right through the depths of every word and every soul misheard. Darkened fog of confused and misused. Reality obscured with realms of justified gestalts. And when he pushed, it didn't hurt.

When she looked at him: blank. Void. None of emotions. But she cries inside because it hurts. When she lets it out it turns into salt. It tastes bittersweet when she ends it.

But she breathes.