Inner Babel / Babel Interior

She's gonna call you
a thousand times
She's gonna beg you
a thousand times You will ignore her
a thousand times She'll cry and mourn
a thousand times

She's gonna hate you
a thousand times She's gonna kill you
a thousand times She will forget you
once and for all And you'll regret it
a thousand times

She wrote for the first time in years, not in her language, but in the language of longing and missing and sighing. She wrote. She told a story. She lingered on to the story for days.She told no one about it, read it to no one, except herself. What is a story no one can read? What is an unwanted story? A story that should never happen, should never be?
It haunted her. She did not read it anymore. It wasn`t necessary. It did not need further polishing. It was not going to be read anyway. She thought of it all the time. Was it a good story? Would it have become a good story had it been given a chance? Would it have become a tragedy? A Romeo and Juliet with deeper, however microcosmic, consequences? Was she implying grandeur to something meaningless? A story about common things, common people, common mistakes….
How many stories have ever been written like this, she wondered in her sleepless hours. How many stories have ever been thrown away without the chance of being read, appreciated, …