it's hard to breathe
for her

the pen in her hand
is leaking
staining her fingertips
deep blue
becoming smeared
across the empty
page

the scratches
aren't forming
words
or even letters

and her tears
are becoming sobs
until she has to hold her mouth shut
with one hand
and her eyes
closed
with the others

blue
of her soul
a part of the ocean
mixing with the words
she wants to say
painting her
the way he did
in the stillness

glass jars
breaking
at her feet
with one sweep
dried flowers
run
with water
racing towards
the door
that will be shut
forever