Bleak

She killed a part of herself that day.
The most important part.
She hadn’t realized she had done it
’til she couldn’t feel with her heart.

She killed a part of herself that day.
The part filled with wonder;
Hopes and dreams and promises unspoken,
Not one remained for plunder.

She killed a part of herself that day.
The part she loved the most.
It took her to the most magical places;
Joy and happiness weren’t distant faces.

She killed a part of herself that day.
The world was bleak,
For the part that made fantasy her reality 
Was swept away by the storms’ wind.

She killed a part of herself that day.
But the question still remained:
In the darkness that suffocates and binds,
Will she revive that part if she had the chance?