I wake up to the cracked
whites of the ceiling
staring down at me
the dawn of another
broken morning
plays through my window
sunrises have
vanished from my eyes;
vases that once held the warmth of
colours are now deserted
and tears continue to overgrow
it doesn’t help that the
cold settles in for the winter,
and no longer the warmth
of being wrapped round
your little finger-
nor the comfort of
when you’d breathe heavily
down the back of my neck
in the heat of a moment.
so many vacant mirrors haunt me.
No more your eyes of green
that fluttered in the background
distracting me,
or smudges of memories
of your red lipstick upon my
collar and neck
just naked oceans of glass
the only reflection being
my fallen smile that arches over
troubled water
