Solitary

Rocking the chair to and fro,
swift and sassy.
Not one morsel
the empty vessels glaring
questioning her about the spaces,
the cracks in the wood
and the walls staining.

Every twilight would pass
and her bronze earrings would vibrate
at the sound of inviting footsteps.
The door,empty,
a cold hard breeze rushing in,
and her fingers reaching the damp switch,
commencing the end of another time of hope.

She screamed at those curtains,
the ones hanging loosely
on the big window near the balcony.
Red,rotten,entangling her,
entangling her fingers.
her veins.
Twisting her bones,
choking her blood.

She would let those curtains, abuse her,
because they alibied out every time.
She would be left,
with the empty vessels glaring at her,
the cracks and the stains.
The vacant doorway,the window,the curtain,
all the same,all mundane.