Disclaimer: The poem is, as always, mine. No one else’s. You know the drill.

Author’s Note: I was really depressed/homesick when I wrote this, so if angst isn’t your cup of tea, then hit the back button on your browser. Easy. I’m not mocking your intelligence, by the way.

Silent, still, watching,

waiting.

Eyes show no emotion

Only cold numbness.

By the window

she lurks

looking out at

the wintry landscape

and the snowflakes falling steadily

like confetti

By the window

she lurks

her eyes of brown showing nothing

Showing nothing at all.

The house is quiet

and unmoving;

no sound can be heard

save for the girl lurking by the window

crying now,

Brown eyes still showing nothing

glassy with the silent grief

that she’s suffering from inside

Her soul is completely untouched

and frozen

Stained with blood that’s also on the walls

her skin cries out also

Now her soul flies out, leaves her stranded there by

the window

Eyes of brown still showing nothing

Shaking from the morose and guilt that she’s feeling

Skin now shivering

She has no soul

Eyes of brown still showing nothing

Blank

She lurks by the window

and still sobbing horribly, uncontrollably

from the grief, the morose and the

guilt

Shaking from misery

Skin still shivering

while the snowflakes

continue to fall

steadily