There is that noise again.
That cold, cutting, deafening
noise that she knows so well now.
The sharp familiarity is coming to her
painfully, almost conveniently
to unleash what she thought was already dormant.
It is spinning around inside her empty head,
dull and biting.
She lulls herself to sleep,
confused in not knowing
the difference between the realities
of the waking
and that
of the dreaming.
