tongue tortured on her gray shag rug, curling to the black beast licking her tear stained face. she is a cursed miserable disgrace. someone said she was pretty when she was younger. now she is a stain in fabric rubbing herself out with a widows window rag. will the lonely be her only friends misery and her company. love is a secret she kept to herself, whispering his name outloud in the night. screaming when no one answered. convulsing with the pain and anguish of knowing that was your one chance. another announcement in the paper of friends who are getting married to people they hardly know. but she swore she knew everything. how can she find a way out of this. where will she locate you in this maze, no bread crumbs no magical ways. she is lost again in the forest of forgetting. forgotten. they already forgot your face but she knows the curves of back the scratching spots the lovers marks. she never forgot. she will wait under that oak tree until the branches break in lightning wind and thunder drowns her sobs again. she’ll peel back her baby skin and age like an old woman without you again. one day maybe youll see her there. breathing your name, her prayer. she always says is at the quarter of the hour hoping you pass while she is still conscious. but you dont know her anymore. she still hopes for more. they say the unrequited hearts turn into stars, shining brighter than planets. all their tragedy gleams with tears shed in crystal form. she is half way to the sky when you see her, and maybe you know in that moment that she wouldve died for you. and she did. under those leaves, and the seasons. she never wanted anyone except you in those hours to pass the time. filler was only twilight and dusk of her eternal night. giving a girl your heart is so much easier if you dont really mean it. david bowie and major time. we can be some space oddities.