SHE

There are times when she agitatedly searched for alternatives,

 She carried herself up, from the ruins and moved forward.

She often asked herself, endless questions and suggested naïve answers.

 The clutches of dominating power had pulled her back, restraining her movement.

She wanted to see the perfect past in the rusty mirrors.

There were times when she spoke aloud, shrieked, squealed even, till the lights had gone dim.

No soul heard her bleed.

Everything with the miasma clogged her reality.

Was there a certainty? 

Was there a punitive truth waiting to be unfolded?

 Was it really happening?

She with her last drop of conviction in herself, got up.

Her attractive countenance had camouflaged her obnoxious intentions.

Scathingly, without a thought,

 She swapped scissors on the only thing that holded her back.