She walks forward wanting to look back.
She forces to take the steps to move away.
She second guesses herself as she takes each one.
Should she stop and turn for a glimpse?
Should she make sure that there's really nothing there?
But she's scared to.
Because what if she finds that there's only an empty space of what has been?
Would she be able to hold herself?

She was already getting consumed by the everydayness in her life.
The days would disappear into nights and then into days.
The seasons seemed to pass without change.
She was sleepwalking and she knew it.
Why can't she snap out of it?
Was she comfortable with the notion that things remained the same?
But it's clear in her eyes that she hated it. There was a flame, but slowly it was dying.
Although no one noticed because her mask was a smile.
She moved in accordance with what was expected, but she remained still inside.
Is she waiting for someone? Or something?
She should do something. She's slowly dying.

Standstill

I stopped dancing.