Nunca um dia lhe parecera tão longo e tão curto ao mesmo tempo. Perdeu as contas de quantos suspiros dera. Ao chegar ao último turno do dia, os ombros já estavam encolhidos. Os olhos, cansados sob os óculos de armação escura. Em sua mente, preocupações mil. As de amanhã teriam de esperar. As de hoje eram prioridade. Uma angústia quase palpável a envolvia. Surpresa por ter suportado mais um dia, ela deitou a cabeça no travesseiro, afinal as mazelas do amanhã aguardavam ansiosas, por sua vez.

I saw the edge of the world, when I traveled too far. I looked through the mountains, and houses, and I saw the edge of the world. Tired, exhausted, I fell to the ground, and I said “enough, this is too tough, and I can almost see the edge of the world.” What do I do? Where do I go? Does my tiredness show? How do I know? I can’t see myself in the mirror. Because I’m on the edge of the world.

This is not a joke, you had forced me to bear the many injuries Though not the type that bleeds I feel you have misinterpreted my intentions I come at you not with envy, hatred, or jealousy I simply will state the facts that you shield your ears from It might be the fact that my mind is easily twisted It may be the way that you are empowered by my sighs of defeat But in the end I’ve had enough. So no, my dearest friend, This is not a joke.

I have given my words For you to walk upon You nod and smile But I see no understanding You ask about my day Yet my reply is chaste For I know now You do not hear My words reach your ears My voice in the void Yet evidence of hearing I do not see. You do not hear My heart And what it used to hold You do not see What I once had Seen in you You do not feel What once filled the emptiness Now inside. You did not hear And now I do not feel.