See how the branches sway
She finds herself laying perfectly still in the dead of night. The only movements are that of the shadowy branches swaying back and forth outside the bedroom window. It's relatively quiet except for the faint noise of the bells she hung up on the tree herself one gloomy morning.
She considers getting up, grabbing the keys to the car and running away - all the while knowing full well she would never go through with it. She dares her body to make a move; her body refuses. The numbness takes hold, utterly out of her control - just like the tears which rush past her face and lands straight on the pillow.
She pleads with her mind to release her, but he refuses. He tightens his grip a little harder, making those unwanted and unwelcome memories to ooze out.
She desperately attempts to shut her eyes, forgetting momentarily that her mind controls that too. So she continues to stare - back and forth, back and forth, the black branches sway.
And as they sway, her mind presents her with memories of crossroads. It makes her doubt everything. Every choice she has made, every action she has taken (or not taken, for that matter).
She wishes she were stronger; she thought she was stronger. Her insecurities grip hold harder, and she is now certain that she is not strong at all. She is weak - weaker than she allows herself to believe.
A flicker of hope illuminates her soul like a little match in an enormous cave. Maybe there's someone who could be strong for her. Perhaps the touch of their lips against hers could release her, just like in fairy tales. Or maybe they can hold her, even for a slight second.
The match burns out, and hope runs out. She drifts off to sleep watching those dark branches sways. Her mind whispers, 'let's do it all again tomorrow night'.