Sincerely, Jennifer x

You said you wanted me to understand,

and then you didn’t speak for a century.

My sweet, suffering paper doll,

impossible to perceive,

kneeling to worship,

worsening and healing,

closed off but still feeling,

praying for nothing, but still stuck in the routine.

Our heaven is a hazy room atop a tower.

Flowers litter the floor,

clinging to life as I catch your eye,

capturing your lips,

your face, cupped in my hand as you cool on me, again.

I ask for more time,

answers,

forgiveness,

but we are the mirror image of the smashed looking glass that lies, lonely on the bathroom floor.

Unlucky, and impossible to mend.