The Window

Her hair became autumn
fragile and thin
her skin became bark
worn out, imperfect

entangled in bed sheets
her hair lay in clumps
her tears piles softly
an ocean of woe

the mirror her nightmare
the world her evil foe
the window her hope
of a life beyond the bed

the feeling of flesh
pressed up to her back
the feeling of lips
pressed up to her neck

for what seemed like forever
she sat in the warmth
engulfed in his love
he silenced her pain

and the sat by the window
entangled in sheets
the window simple hope
that tomorrow would come