Dust to Dust

She may be smiling; the life and soul of the party; everyone’s friend with not a care in the world, but inside she’s dying; her heart is a block of ice and the pain of the lie that is her life slowly eating away at her until all that will be left is a crumbling shell.

[Author’s Note]: This was meant to become something longer — but somewhere between the first line and the second, Elfie (my occasionally wise imaginary muse) told me to stop. She was right. Sometimes a collapse doesn’t need chapters — just one quiet, crumbling breath.