It was the decay of long-ago spoken words that had hardened around her heart.
It was the blood of past loves that turned the whites of her eyes to crimson.
She dragged herself through the day wearing loneliness on her feet.
Shielded by solitude,
Clothed in dust.

Dried up tears grew as stale
As conversations she continually had with herself
She found her reflection in the most sombre of things:
Empty antique stores
Humdrum of steady rain,
On empty ears.