[ the stone * ]

she laid on the cold, hard stone.
the stone that separates them and her, the dead and the alive.
maybe, if she laid longer,
she would be able to connect with the dead.
memories flood her head, and she misses them dearly.

She laid there,
wondering where have all of them gone to.
why did they leave her here?
why didn’t they take her along with them?

but she knows.
she knows she has lost them.
she just don’t want to believe that it’s true.
and all she can do is to hold her breath as she drowns in the pain.

she will never be whole,
for her broken soul has shattered into too many pieces,
and they took along with them,
pieces of her heart when they left.

bleeding on the inside, crying on the outside,
she has been lost far too long to be helped.
some days she aches,
for she’s lost, and every step she takes
feels as if she were walking on shards of glass.
some days she hurts,
for as god tore them away from her life,
he took away her reason for living too.

it’s hard to explain this pain in her heart,
as there’s always more to the story than she would ever tell.
it’s so hard to hold it in, but too painful to let it all out.

and she walks in the midst of others,
wondering to herself why does she still feel so lonely and cold.
won’t anyone out there protect her from the cold,
and lend her a shoulder and take her hand,
so that she wont feel that she’s been abandoned by them?