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Sitting down, looking through the window, with a broken glass bottle she lets fall out of her hand.
He sits in the corner looking at her.
A single tear runs down her pale skin.
She stands up and makes her way down the hall.
He looks up at her, and follows from a distance.
Papers everywhere, tables and chairs out of place, shattered plates.
She steps into the destroyed bathroom, and looks into the broken mirror.
The reflection of a familiar stranger.
The stranger bled out of her forehead and had a bruised lip.
And past the stranger’s reflection, was the reflection of a man.
The man looked the same way as the stranger, yet in his eyes reflected pain.
The man placed his hands on the stranger’s shoulders, and the stranger closed her eyes.
 Fear Of Breathing · Thu Sep 02, 2010 @ 06:16pm · 0 Comments |
