She prays every night,
knees painted in beautiful blisters,
her soul no longer feeling like hers.
Because she fears... dreads,
that if she does not,
he will be back.

Haunted by the memories,
crippled by the nightmares,
she sobs every night,
eyes painted in dark bags.
She is tired.

God has not been listening
even though she begs him to,
and now,
she is losing hope.
Sinking into a darkness so bliss
that it swallows her alive,
a feeling similar to bathing in a tub of ice.

© mayuri