Gracefully she strides home like every night since his departure.

She sits in a corner formed by a cracked wall and an enclosed shower; claustrophobic. Her boney legs pressing firmly to her chest. Just careful enough to not fracture her rib cage. Steam suffocates her weak lungs while her damp hair falls in strings at the side of her scraped pail face. Only a bit of light creeps through the dusty window blinds into the dimly lit bathroom. He demised premature; too sudden. He left her on her own without any oxygen. It's like breathing under water with out him here. She thinks so evidently. (and for a matter of fact, too often.) She parts her rose stained lips to speak but no words come out; pressing them in a firm straight line after realizing the impossibility.

She sits on a wood chair at the dinner table like she always does. Her plate of leftovers sits in a sludgy puddle of yellow chicken grease. The glass she holds in her fragile hands is filled to the rim with propane. She makes sure to drink every drop. Bad idea. Butterflies; like fireworks, try to escape from her stomach. They crash against her concealed flesh and she wishes she had a zipper so she could free them and let them see the world like she can. Gagging; the sensation leaves a vile mess of regurgitate. He would not be impressed.

She walks along train tracks; cracking her neck upwards to take sight at the glowing night sky. Shooting star; I wish he we're still alive and full of life. She chokes back salty tears and cigarette smoke as she takes a drag. She knows her wish is impossible to fulfill but that doesn't stop her from making it. It's awfully cold outside in her thin paper bag dress.

She lays her tussled hair in the fallen snow by the creek like she always does, her teeth chattering. Chattering. Rest in piece; she closes her blood shot eyes one final time and casually dreams of him finding her caught up on fences; wrists wrapped in the barb wire like hand cuffs. Her hair tied in braids; her hands bearing blades. He stands watching; the grass so high, it swallows his shoes. He takes her hand and brings her to his palace in the clouds; angel wings stitched to their shoulders.

Good night.