As she walks away the clouds crumble and crash
through the blood-red horizon as flakes
of once-fiery passion drift slowly towards
the frozen pool of teardrops at your feet
while your smile fades into a ghostly trace
of loneliness and your body weakens at the joints
as every part of your soul aches while the cold
entanglement of sorrow grips your heart as
grief twists and torments your gutted insides and
nostalgia toys with your broken mind with the melody
of her voice playing over and over again like
a broken record that won't shut off and
you can't help but sit there and think about her
in the most painful ways that no words can ever express
or just lie in bed as you dream about the now-shattered
happiness you and her once shared so long ago
and you are reduced to a mere shell of your formal self,
locked in a desperate struggle of pretending
to live a normal life by trying to bury the hurt deep down
inside even though it gnaws at your chest and
breaks open old scars every time
the emptiness of your eyes meet hers.