She's...

She has a pair of cautious eyes, been awake since day one,

And an aware mind, more prepared than what lays behind her ribs was once,

Where the bruises stay, and wounds bleed at times.

All to welcome the night: the crescent moon and the stars that shine.

"Is she crying?"

It’s not about the darkness that creeps, but more to the silence that follows,

Because in silence she’d remember things she’s been trying to swallow,

Not him, or those memories he’s in,

It is the unrequited longing, and the pain it brings.

"Or is it raining?"

She’d spent hours watching the ceiling, thinking,

Of the what-if-s, if-only-s, how-s, why-s, all the wondering,

She'd let the questions hits her like an auto-replay, pictures of him would come and run,

But her eyes stay dry, she breathes normally, almost numb.

"There are clouds in her eyes,"

But at times, in one of those silences that accompany the night,

She’d let her cautiousness fades and awareness sleeps,

With eyes closed, falling tears, and a bleeding wound that kills.

"It’s falling, falling..."

A post inspired by a song