Ask her not

You with the sweet tongue and the mellow voice and a convincing lingo, you agent of destruction, branch from the tree of vile individualism, look at the pulp you have left behind. Is she the lady you found? Is she the woman you fell for? Look at her, a lady sad, lonely and lost in the middle of a complicated path, a woman broken and damaged. Sorrow like a cold necklace on a warm skin scorches her every night and day, a ball she swallows but cannot go beyond her throat. She does not know whether to laugh or cry. She wants to let you go so she can be happy again but the cup of sorrow does not want to empty. She knows she is falling, but what can she do yet the walls are too slippery and dark? What can she hold on to when in reality she is falling into a bottomless vacuum? Let not your curiosity be aroused when you see her sit at the window sill late in the evening. Don’t ask her why there are dry tear lines on her face, because her heart is breaking. Do not ask her why her eyes look dark and lost. Ask her not why she feels like she is standing on quick sand for though she smiles outside, her heard is shattered and scattered about in the inside. She knows that a shattered mirror will never be okay again no matter how diligently it is sewed back. She hopes, tries to hold on to the thought that he will come back but when they meet her heart dies a little, and the solid foundation for her dreams turn into a castle of sand on the beach, waiting to be carried away by the tide. Every song tears her apart, takes her through hell and hurt. Ask her not why she looks so weak and godforsaken, for her heart sure is breaking.

Don’t ask her why she hangs on the ledge for her mind is playing the song of the last, tragedy in the face of a comedy. Every laughter, she feels is towards her, her pain their entertainment, her breaking heart the punch line. She feels like a clown, juggling emotions she too does not comprehend. She does not know just how she became the spectator in her own game, an audience in her own show. She loved you, God knows she did, why did you let her fall this bad? She gave her all, her breath and her heart, why did you not return? Ask her not why she swears to no longer trust, because she no longer knows the difference between pleasure and pain. Ask her not why she is running about unbridled and uncontrolled, doesn’t a mare turn wild when it is left to have a taste of the wilderness? All she wanted was to sit in and make a life with you, why did you take that away from her? Wasn’t she pretty enough? Did she love you too much? Ask her not why she is crying, for she has truly loved and lost.

Today is past so she will have to hold on for tomorrow. But how will she hang on to what she cannot trust anymore? How can she live in fantasies when they are full of spikes and poisonous fangs? How can she feel safe when her defence was breached and her innocence cast among the wild dogs? What can she do now that her heart is breaking? Where can she run now that her legs are weak and paralyzed? How can she cry now that her heart is purged of emotion and her lips tight with sorrow? You told her that she would never crash. Look at her now, falling down to the ground. Who will break her fall? You would, if you were there, but you are not. Now watch her tumble down and down. Watch her rolling and rolling, falling and falling till she hits the ground. Let guilt choke you, let it strangle, let it bring you down. But sing not in grief when she is gone, for she was dead long before she took her leap.