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.