I sat in the window of the church looking at the painted glass. Praying for your return.
The loss of you tore my heart out leaving the empty space turning cold.
My blood frozen in my veins.
No longer moving under my skin.
My mother touched my shoulder, and I swear I couldn't feel it.
I saw her warped reflection in the glass window. And in my mind it shattered. The shards of painted glass falling like snow around me.
Slicing my cheeks like you had sliced your wrists, and I stood up holding out my arms.
Spinning in circles trying to understand. Why you would want to leave this world in all its painful glory.
I couldn't bring myself to cry knowing that you wouldn't want me to. The tears locked away as demons clawed at the walls of my brain trying to escape. My black dress caught the shards cutting my thighs, but I wouldn't bleed.
Because I was stone cold, and already lost to the world as it rained shards of painted glass.
