Oppugn

Stifling, trembling, burning, aching. Everything about her now is contradiction, one element opposing the other. The battle wages, rages, wanes, and repeats. Her battered body carries on, though she wants only to lay it down and give it rest, wash it clean of these tortured days. But the choice is not hers to make: the sun still rises, the phone still rings, and demands still come to stake claims on her soul. Her fears and her pains she smiles and bears, and she continues as if everything were fine. You would never know different. You're not supposed to.