Untitledforthemoment

She's changed. And the silence in her eyes
tells us she's died. The color's gone black,
And though the spark there has vanished,
The fire in her heart remains.

Her smile has faded, and with blue lips
like those, it's hard to believe it was ever
there. She turns, coldly, as tantalizing
memories return.

She places her pale hand on the window,
tilting her head ever so slightly, all the while
wondering if it's real.

The world skitters back to the girl, promising
ponies, and happy things as they inject her, deftly,
with a higher dosage of lies. They promise to
assuage her grief, but through life's most difficult
obstacles, she's learned better than to believe.

The needle pierces through her skin, and she
sees that nothing's changed. She turns wistfully,
wondering where her lover's gone, And where he's
taken her heart. The hole grows bigger with each
second he's away, but her cries are captured by
death's jar, and she is forever silenced.

She removes her hand from the window
hesitantly, and turns back, silently whispering,
"I'm sorry,"
And it echoes for an eternity more, waiting to reach
his soul, yet knowing it
never will.

A single tear drops from within her eye,
and a new spark has formed. I only wish it were
not of this kind. She closes her eyes, and says
nothing more. The day has passed.
The moment's gone.

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I've thought of a few possibilities for the title, but it will remain untitled until I choose.