She stood in front of the casket,
The only one with a dry face,
And a blank canvas,
She knew she was the only one who noticed his new chestnut haircut.
The "I’m sorry’s” were being passed around like a joint,
Though none gave the same satisfaction,
None would let her forget,
They would serve as a cold, hard, sharp reminder
Of her cold, dead lover.

All she knew was that,
He left her when she needed him the most,
He promised he would never let her go.
She knew this would happen sooner or later,
But all she wanted,
All she needed,
Was him as an anchor.

But life never works that way does it?
It always ends with someone getting broken.
Well life, you’ve won.
I’m done.

I’m barren.
Just like badlands.