By Samantha Arroyo
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The train was moving in.
Darkness satisfies blind ignorance. She could see the thoughts approaching vividly behind her eyelids. Silence pretends to offer peace when it is so often becomes the birthplace of internal chaos.
Beneath those sheets, that night sky, when most find rest and satisfied sleep, her mind burns with analytical reasoning, unwarented worry, and yet justified fear. She rests her forehead on her knees, her hair tumbling about her face. The day flashes behind her eyes, pausing at various intervals--developing scandals within her mind. Questions and misplaced trust. She's been here before.
The tape plays through once. The intensity exhausting. Don't trust anyone. Keep your heart on safe...
Stop. Pause. Rewind. Repeat.
No. No. No. A whisper, barely audible escapes her lips, "Dear God. It's me again..."
Evening and morning, and at noon, I will pray and cry aloud and He will hear my voice.
Psalm 55: 17
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