She presses her hand against the chilled window,
Soaked with raindrops, like her face with tears.
Her hot breaths cloud the pane,
Her empty heart boosts the pain.

Why can’t she forget him?
Everything around her screams a memory,
Her pain is built into these walls.
The first instinct: escape.

The door screeches an old protest
As she leaves the apartment block.
Her feet tripping over the ground,
Her heart tripping over the pain.

She stumbles her way, in the pouring rain,
Over to the swimming pool.
The flush of an indoor piece of nature
Seems to calm her somewhat.

The water reflects such tranquility,
Like what is below the surface
Only it can touch.
The first instinct: dive.

The water smoothes against her face,
But nothing seemed to change.
She made the wave, she broke the calm,
But the following silence is far more haunting.

Like it was with him.

Each word of love he used to speak
Etches into her very soul,
A thousand knives, too much to handle.
The first instinct: Drown.

Now she can’t love him anymore.