It happens all the time

With a halo in her hair,
She cries.
With the feathers everywhere,
From the pillow that's gone.
Burned to blackened threads
From the touch of her skin.
But it's fine.
It happens all the time.

Wallpaper that glimmers
In the halogen lights.
Pearly pink in their sheen
curling away from her fingertips
the putrid smell of its death
permiating through the room
Reavealing the blackened and burned wood
of the wall underneith.
But it's fine.
It happens all the time.


And through her broken smile
She knows.
This isn't how it used to be.
Quite the opposite actually.
When her smile wasn't rusted
Wasn't broken with shame.
When her laugh wasn't
broken glass
Tearing up her throat.

But now she's left alone
With her deathly touch
And the stink of rotting wall.
And the feathers all around.

she cries.

But it's fine.
It happens all the time.