Her orbs are filled up to brim with sadness

Her body is laced with the scent of shame and guilt

Her wrinkled sari covers her shriveled, sagging body

Her nimble tobacco stained fingers trace the white ripples flowing down her stretched skin

Her bent bony fingers trace back to the root.

Her childhood- A cluster of faint lullabies

Her adolescence lost in ecstacy

Her adulthood spent buying it back

Her heartbeat- the only dull reminder of her insipid existence

Like a castle of cards she stands- Beautiful only because it dares to exist

Like a castle of cards she awaits her inevitable death

She climaxes from the adrenaline and shatters.

Like yesterday's dream she's already forgotten

Like yesterday's song she only remains in the corners of some insignificant being's mind

And like yesterday itself, she never comes again.