Hanging On

The book falls apart in her hands
As sirens fade into the distance
She sobs with each page
Escaping through the window
As another crumbles beneath her fingers
Before she can make out one word

She looks down
At the yellowed sheet
But all is a blur
And just before the wind can whisk it away
She plants her hand on top of the page

Stays like this for forty years

His voice begins to fade with the ink

As her mind grows tired from sitting still

She dies with her fists clenched
And her teeth bared

Slamming her head against the desk

She erases the last "I love you."