The cold locket
She gave you
Slipped from your neck
Falling between
Your bare *******
And down past
Your broken heart
You hugged
Your knees
That they might
Save you
And hold you
Together
For just a
Little while
Staring at your
Reflection
In the
Lukewarm water
That stagnated
At your thighs,
A white
Porcelain refuge
Surrounded by
Moldy tiles
Was your solace
The salty leakage
From your
Forest eyes
Fell faster
Than the
Squeaky faucet
That never stopped
D R I P P I N G
The cool
Air grazed
Your spine
And sent
A peppered
Patch of
Chill bumps
Down your arms,
But you
Didn't seem
To mind
All you
Could feel
Was the
Broken pieces
Of your heart,
S c a t t e r e d
In the water
Slicing your body
Like tiny
Razor blades
By their
Jagged, Uneven
Edges
With one
Flip of
Your toe
You whispered
Goodbye,
As the necklace
That she
Gave you
And the
Pieces of
Your heart
That she
Took from you
Slid down
The drain,
Into the
Place Where
Broken Hearts Go.
A story of the place where most girls go to deal with their broken hearts: A good cry in the bath tub.