She slices the ribbon of an old tape cassette,
alone she sits perched on the charred remains.
She breathes in slow motion and recites the alphabet,
alone she sits and embraces the inevitable change.
A delicate flower of truth, love, and regret,
a pulsating fountain severs the deepest vein.
Flowing emotions puddle underneath the bed,
alone she sits, she is always alone.
JDMaraccini
2021