The clock is ticking,
Bon Iver playing in the background,
Every note dragging her in deeper.

She's sitting on the sofa;
Shoulders hunched,
Tugging at the sleeves of her jumper,
Wine glass in one hand,
The other wiping away her tears as they fall.  

She wonders if she'll ever get over this;
This feeling of hopelessness ripping her to shreds,
She wonders if she'll ever make it out alive,
Without you by her side.