I looked at her,
That girl, who had grown into,
A woman
Watched her, everyday
Black eyes,
Broken bones
Trying to smile through tears
She always said his heart was
Spanish moss,
Clinging, choking,
Till it kills
She always said that physical death,
Was nothing like the death of the heart
Its worse,
No funeral,
No stone to mark its passing
Just dead
Like the years of her past
Troubled death
I didn't feel sorry for her
There was nothing,
Like the endurance I'd watched,
Nothing
Her tears,
Nothing
She was,
Past
Nothing,
What she may have been
Washed down the bath tub sink,
Like soap suds