She sits on a stone carved in marble.
One that shows the beginning and end.
Someone once breathed in this air,
When it was pure and clean.
Its now fouled by bad memories,
Generated by unconcerned minds,
Too steeped in control and anger.
The air shimmers with past and loneliness.
It senses an eternity of solitude.
The girl returns everyday to wait,
Sitting in stillness like stone.
Someday, she says.
Hope shattered into fragments.
Glass showing what could be.
It never would happen now.
She reads the carvings that don't make sense.
Here lies mother, lover, friend.
She had never had one of those,
Not for one day.
She lay on marble and felt its hands wrap around her with cold precision.
It would be okay to not wake up, stone whispered.