her dreams have gone to bed

The wind whispers between
raindrops of yesterday’s past
the memory of her last kiss
fades to black

She can see her happiness
stagger out the front door
into the arms of another
perfumed night

Her broken dreams have
all gone to bed haunted by
ghosts of lines left unsaid

In the morning she can see
the sun hanging wearily on the
horizon, casting empty shadows
on the pillow by her head

She can feel the emptiness
swim around inside her as
she drags herself out of bed

In the mirror she catches
her reflection, smeared mascara
underneath her brown eyes

She can spend another day
holding hands with the past
pretending everything is ok

She can hear the wind between
the raindrops and she wonders
how long can it last?

  1. There were certainly times in my younger years—that make it very easy for me to relate—lovely piece. It is simplistic in it’s style–but, that is merely an illusion you have painted. For I felt the reality of the depth.~Jackie

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