8 months,
While couples patiently,
Wait,
To embrace the warm body,
Of their new child,
She sits, trapped,
By four corners,
Cold, lifeless, loveless .
With nothing but a pillow to embrace.
Within her gray matter she seeks,
A clue to see if she still matters.
No colour but black, white or red
Of the bricks built inside to decrease her space.
8 months,
The time it took to lose her path,
The thoughts and regrets blur her vision of lights.
Although no space for her,
She lives to find her light,
She manages to survive without him,
She just wonders if one day,
Someone will destroy these layers of walls,
To release the beauty in her,
Will there be someone patient enough to lead her back to the path.
Another wait, perhaps another 8 months.
