Fear walks in her tears. She asked the anger to leave but 
it's there. Hard to release its (the) hold. Breathe. Out 
of cycle. Leave. She's not yours. She's not mine. She's 
herself. Free yourself. The thread is behind as she 
whispers his name in my ear and quietly convinces herself 
it'll be alright. How will it be alright? Please make it 
be alright. I want it to be alright.