Slowly she dies,
But I can hear her breathing,
The darkness in her eyes,
I wonder if she thought her life had meaning.
She stared at the ceiling,
With all the cracks and waterstains,
I wondered the feeling,
Of life as it fades.
I looked out the window,
As her soul finally left,
Feeling such sorrow,
All her love that I once kept.
Later that night,
I would see her again,
Appearing in my sight,
always around ten.
But when I would smile,
At the sight of her presence,
Her face would become vile,
as she downed her anti-depresants.
She would scream and she would cry,
and cause absolute mayhem,
How slow this time would go by,
These visions... I couldn't shake them.
Every night it was the same,
This was not the woman I once knew,
Though one thing didn't change,
.......The smell of her sweet perfume.
