Hanging on words that no longer rhyme.

So there I was.
Standing.
Just waiting.
Listening. Hoping. Longing;
For its voice to return,
To a familiar tone.
Not the angry one
That was displayed in front of me.
But all there was
Were thorny vines,
Creeping. Surrounding. Binding.
Wrapping around my insides,
Like a poisonous snake,
It’s words leaking into my veins,
Like a foul dye emptied into water.
Every new sentence
Began with an uglier word,
Distant. Cold. Heartless.
Is what they wanted to say.
But that isn’t what they said.

Stone stares with blank face,

Blackbirds tweet it's usual phrase.
No meaning in the song,
Just an intention to make the photograph
A forgotten memory.
She’s not like that, anymore. Anymore.