StaLynStr

Empty spaces fill the days of an only child Left to her own devices, a dangerous game Made possible by avarice and apathy Or just too much time on her hands Voids are bridged with mindless diversion Insipid talk shows, a TV bandage for the soul Cut too deeply by the sharp edge of nothingness Threading through a solitary life Occasionally warmed by a touch, A brilliant microsecond Released all too soon, like a paper boat Into a storm.