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.