The Breakdown

A tall figure of a recently grown girl,
Sinks to the ground in utter disbelief,
Her hand grasp her face so tight,
She does not live, she does not die.

Holds and idol against her breasts,
Which were fondled not only by her lovers,
Her eyes pouring out, her lashes fall,
She slams her head against the wall.

She screams in physical and mental pain,
She looks away, she looks disdained,
She wails like a little bitch in distress,
Yelping in pain, she rips off her dress,
Which was once the work of a man,
Who she loved- who she destroyed.

She takes the blame on herself,
She looks back at the things he did- things she said,
A wilted lover's memories in mind,
She sinks further into the bed- she cries,
Looking into the mirror, she does not recognise,
Her own image, the tears act as blinds.

Her eyes and face smeared with kohl,
She claims to have been here before,
She sinks into the bathroom floor,
Curled up in the foetal position, but not in her mother's womb.

She wished to be held by the one she loves,
But the one she loves says he needs to fuck,
Other women to build this love,
Which was not as strong for him as it were,
For her.

She wants to go ahead and die,
She goes to the fire escape and lies,
On the steps breaking her spine,
A sudden gush of fear in mind.

Her body is exhausted for the fifth time,
Passes out with her imbalanced behind,
She wants to cuss herself out loud,
But she does not because she is somehow proud,
Of herself and the things she's done,
And she expects nothing in return,
But just love from the man she loves,
But he just gave up.