I am watching you.
The leaves are sweeping through your
studio apartment.
You just sit there rocking yourself
in the middle of the floor.
Wind from the open window
make tears cold on your cheek.
I am only the neighbor across the way,
but I feel I know you
like a sister.
Now I see the blood, your blood,
staining the floor.
Didn't you have someone to talk to, or did you stage
the scene for me?
You could've asked nicer.
Comments