Monday, June 22, 2015


Look at her.
She loves you a little more each passing day,
Fighting against her feeling of being shot within.
Every morning she wakes up to twisted linen 
From last night’s hurricane; struggling to sleep.

Look at her.
The tears shed from her weary eyes wet her pillow,
While salty sobs soak in her burned cheeks.
Every night she is haunted by your demons,
Keeping her awake with thoughts of you.

Look at her.
She takes strolls alone around the city at 3am,
Dances with the ghosts of you wandering along.
Stumbling each time the ghosts mention your name,
They leave her not, they never do.

Look at her.
A bony body, still refuses to eat.
She stares at her plate as if she sees you there.
Every glass of wine she finishes just to forget you,
She sees your face at the bottom of the glass..

Look at her.
Her chestnut hair uncombed, she never leaves her house,
She snuggles her head in her blanket and weeps.
She would give every broken piece of her to have you back
Her hollow eyes would only sparkle with the colour of yours.