She felt no urge to cry and purge. The tears had left her alone. To never feel that lonesome surge. Staring with eyes as dry as a bone.
She felt like death with every breath. Said, with me there’s something wrong. I have never feel that gift of loss. Or to know you don’t belong.
I just am here and feel so clear. Feeling nothing, not even alone. Except contempt for failure to tear… With these eyes dry as a bone.Dennis Mantin