Reverie

Party Woman

The sleek heels under the bed were hiding

The soft buzz of her phone silenced

Her hair was trying to pull itself away from her head, her hands flailing with dread.

Her straighteners were lost and she was yet to realise the cost.

A flicker of worry lingered in her eyebrow but was too fast to catch

It ran along with her hands, pulling apart anything that seemed a match. 

Her energy was flickering now too, vaguely shadowing every colour she touched.

Her room was drowning inch by inch. The floor was sunken and now, the bed. 

Soon the table and then her head. 

 The clock was already grazing ten, she was close to crumbling in her den. 

Her body went limp with exhaustion and she dropped onto the floor. 

Now she was a pile too, just like all her strewn clothes.