where the writers are
*untitled*
Empty Room.jpg

From the opposite sides of the room,

We sat.

Far across on the other side,

She stared.

Eyes full of confusion, yet empty with life,

Emotionlessly, she just sat there.

 

Behind the glare, I could see

The way she's been holding back

On tears about to break free.

But she fought them,

Knowing the tears bring forth no right,

Still with eyes full of questions,

She just sat there up tight.

 

Later on, I stood

And likewise she did, not a second too late

And with eyes empty with emotion

We were stalking at the same pace.

 

At a halt she came,

So did I, not a second too late.

Her body already numb with pain,

Almost gave in to bitter fate.

 

Clenched fists stroke fast,

And later she was gone.

Glass, shattered everywhere,

Blood dripped, a stabbing pain in the palm.

 

On what I thought was the center of the room, I stood.

My back to the other side. I bared

The pain of depression.

Still empty with life.

Unconciously, I just froze right there.