She’s been caught —
crying through every night,
her heart still weeping
though no tears in sight.

With red weeping eyes,
she stares in the mirror.
Her hands are trembling,
cold as winter.

What keeps her up in the dark?
What sets this silent flood in spark?
She wonders about things that might have been,
and all the aching what ifs within.

She wishes to hold herself tight,
to feel — even briefly — that things are right,
whispers to gods to grant her sleep,
just one quiet night without the weep.

Kneeling down, her body sags,
beneath the weight of unseen bags.
The floor and walls a cold alabaster,
she folds in half before Our Father.

Will the heavens hear her plea?
Or let her sink into the deep sea?
Will the ground bury her under,
or the waves drag her down in thunder?

She looks again — red eyes stare back,
mirrored in the glass, cracked.
Red as the blood she saw just prior,
as she dragged the thin metal deeper.


- N.V. 🥀