She Learns to Entertain Herself

There is no one left to instruct her.

No one left to correct the posture or adjust the smile.

So she fills the silence herself.

Practicing expressions.

Replaying what once earned approval.

The eye is gone, but the watching remains.

The hand grips what is familiar — not for comfort, but continuity.

Pain becomes a companion when it is the only thing that answers back.

This is what happens when the discipline outlives the authority.

When the lesson stays long after the room is empty.

She smiles because it is easier than remembering why she learned to.

Heather Lynn Donovan

Always by candlelight