She sits with her back to the wall,
Silently watching the soft snow fall,
She lies with her face to the ceiling,
Waiting for her stomach to stop reeling,
She sleeps with her back to the door,
Hoping that some day she’ll find more,
She wakes and faces the window,
Listening to the harsh winter wind blow,
Wonders about what had happened,
Ponders different courses of action,
Dreams that there is a different way to say,
But knows everyone is better off this way.
Returns the bottle to its place,
Lies flat down on her face,
Sleeps her life away,
Dies alone on Valentine’s Day.