I used to toss and turn in your arms, but now it's just a body lying lonely between barely warm sheets.

A heartbeat before,
now it is just the clock *ticking.

She cries late
                  every night
     Turns off all the
                           lights
         Sits in bed
bawls
             her eyes out
      in the dark
Cutting out pieces
      of her heart
No one can see
                          the scars
           of her sewing
back up her chest
       Soon she will be
             an empty shell
        Hopefully
                    putting her soul to rest
If her heart
                    is no longer there
It can't get broken,
              right?
If no one can see
                          the tears
Then she never cried,
                     right?

Ah, poor dear woman.

You know not what you reap.

Is your pocket book not empty?

Can you not see the drain?

He's absorbing your lifestyle.

An osmosis of sorts.

Is it not peculiar that he brings nothing?

No friends, money, stability, no home.

What do you give? All of the above.

The "society" he craves to be a part of.

He will **** you dry sweet lady.

You will be left a shell.

*Consider this your warning label