Her hands trembled,
Tears flowing down her face like a river.
Mascara sailed like a boat, a black sludge drooping down her face,
She darted inside a closet and began to quiver.

The palms of her hand found warmth on her chest,
As her head leant onto the wooden boards of the closet.
In desperation, she held herself and told herself "everything's fine"
But she remembered the palms of his hand in which she deposited,
...
...
...
...
HER HEART.