It's pounding. Pounds.
I hate the ache. My ache.
It can all be my fault.
Is my fault. My mistake.

It's so empty. I hear echo.
The hollow shell mimics the cry.
Copies the sound of the teardrop.
Replays the sound of a sigh.

Gone. Gone. Going? No, gone.
Not a sorry to be said.
Not a word to be heard.
Everything but your shadow has fled.

A pouring in the eyes. A leak in the heart.
No love. No love. Nothing left to lose.
I cut my foot on a piece of broken promise.
I should have worn shoes.

I feel a steady chill.
Must be the window pain.
I used to fix it. Doesn't matter now.
It'll just break again.