This is the seventh day.
The wicked, well-rested, repent.
And it’s only when you close your eyes and surrender to the silence that you realise how loud everything is.
Nothing is sacred anymore.
There is no such thing as loss — only change.
There is nothing beyond this — not even fear.
And she weeps for who she once was; and she smiles at who she is becoming.
Mirror mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?
It’s not a competition.