She lies sobbing in the tub.
Was the sound made by the leaky tap,
Or rather – her leaky eyes.
She might as well had cried the tub full,
She's been crying for hours.
The scorching hot water she filled the tub with,
Intended to torture herself,
Now icy cold – still a torture anyway.
She shivers slightly,
Cold or sad?
The silence of the bathroom – deafening.
The fogged-up mirror,
Droplets already forming on it.
The clock ticks past midnight silently,
Its already been four hours.
Why must it be like this?
Must he leave her?
In the most brutal, rude way?
A breakup would've served her better.
But he died. Gone. Perished.
All because of her,
She was nearly raped.
And he saved her.
Come to think of it,
She'd rather been raped,
Than to see her one and only die.
"At least he died seeing my naked image"
What a shameless thought –
Sending her into another burst of tears,
Searing through her eyelids,
Her cries echoing eerily in the bathroom.
She hung on to her dearest's last words,
"I'll be waiting in heaven for you."
Another tear – rippling the still water surface.
She held the blurred mirror in her hand,
(it was a blade really).
She couldn't being herself to do it,
Her shivers already a tremble.
"He doesn't love me anymore,
dead people don't feel"
She subtly nodded in agreement (with herself)
Her friend's catchphrase ringing ever mockingly in her ear.
A dance of red in the water,
Like the evening sun and the sea,
The bathtub fell red.
She could feel the blood gushing out,
Faster and faster.
But she knew she was going to meet him,
Sooner and sooner.