Wishes

She wishes sometimes that she could just sleep, fall into that littlest of deaths and not wake up until it's gone, but that would do nothing. She has to be awake to make the bad become different. She has to live, to breathe, to wonder and dream. She doesn't know how she's going to do it, but she knows that for now at least she has to. She doesn't have any other option. She needs to be...she doesn't know even, except that there is a world out there that she doesn't want to live in and yet she has to. She doesn't see her place in it, doesn't see how it's worth going through, but she's here so obviously she has to go through it. She doesn't want to, but what else can she do? She doesn't know what she will make of herself, but she has to make of herself something. Has to be someone. Has to do something.

Maybe someday she will know why she was born. Maybe someday she won't wish she had been aborted.