Death.
It is strong in the air; the pungent scent
The unmoving darkness beneath.
As the dust settles slowly, time creeps in;
Consumes all that is left.
As she withers away, I stare
And wonder who she was.
Beautiful at one time in her life,
Her rosy cheeks now ashen, her sparkling
Brown eyes, blank and emotionless.
I like to think that her lips once curved
Into a smile, instead of
The flat, terse line they form now.
I cannot bear to see the poor girl like this,
So utterly naked, and yet
I find that I cannot look away.
She is familiar, but
I do not know her.
Not any more.
Who was she?
I lean in closer to her
Inappropriately near her face.
Searching it with my eyes
I slowly begin to see her, the real her,
Lonely, afraid,
Weak and lost,
Hiding.
It is now that I recognize the girl. My fist
Smashes into the glass and our
Eyes connect, just before the girl shatters,
Leaving me staring at a wall.
I died and didn't even know it…
This girl,
That sad pathetic girl.
That girl is me?