And with just one little word, or was it a few?

Warmth and balminess became ice & wisps of cold.
Laughs became little sobs; gasping for air for all the wrong reasons.

A
home
does
not
seem
quite
like
it.

It feels like unravelled ribbons.

Painted grey & blue hearts.

Tears on dinner plates.

Cold tea staining raw, chapped lips.

Your breaths merely touching your bare ribcage.

Empty, emptiness simply seep into your veins,
the spaces in your skin, then the ones in your heart
and
in the
very words
you
speak.

I cannot close
my
tired, tired
lids
over
it.