I sat down on the bed,
A torn red satin dress on the chair;
Remains of the previous night.
I sat down on the thin windowsill,
Looking outside into the dark,
Waiting for the sign.
My eyes were as black
As the day you had left
Without warning, without trying.
I was numb from the cold
And the cold was numb from me.
I sat down at the door
Where the wild dogs gathered,
Chanting their mantra of hunger.
I looked them all in the eye
They feared me, and I them,
But they were blind, and could not see.
I sat down in my front yard
Where more hungry dogs had come,
Who could smell death in me.
I walked further, and sat down at the gate
Always looking, looking for you,
Waiting for you to come back.
I sat down,
I had nowhere else to go, but out.
Guns in hands, I walked,
And kept walking
Until my legs gave in,
And the bullets decorated the back of your head.