There was sorry and desperation and longing and regret painted over the glazed dying dreams in her eyes and the fading love on her lips pulsated as the hope dilapidated into poisonous reds staining the soft residue of past sins and his name felt like razors caught in her throat and each letter burned with its own scar of venom and her heart beat was trampled and out of sync and her lungs sputtered vapor and mist and she would not break or burn any further the dream died here but  she did not and not her heart and she stood tall among the wreckage and wiped the poison and sin from her lips and spit out the last syllable of his name and buried her regret with the corpse of this dream and walked away from the longing and the desperation and the sorrow and painted a new hope within the horizon of her eyes