Learning to Smile

She learned not to hear. The cries of fear, of hate, of pain, of sorrow; sharp as acid, blunt as lead. The whimpering misery of the alleyway. The careless brutality of gunshot. The incessant, treacherous whispering of poisonous words.

She learned not to see. The violet of bruised flesh beneath silk. The coiled trembling of a child in a dark wardrobe. The mechanical use… of drugged body parts. Human. Animal. Farm. Abattoir. Lines bleeding across reality.

She learned not to be, for how could she be and not tear out the sickness of the world?

She learned not to hear, and learned not to see, and instead she smiled.

About Frank

A Sci-Fi & Fantasy author and lyrical poet with a mild obsession for vampires, succubi, goddesses and Supergirl.
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2 Responses to Learning to Smile

  1. Powerful, Frank. This feels so tragic and hopeless. Well written and emotionally charged!

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