Her pillow is
made of teardrops
She has cried so many times now
it seems she's the ocean of sorrow.
Every night she lays her head
she feels she's drowning
No sign of land beneath
Lost in his memories knowingly.
She wakes up every night finding him beside
reaches out her hand, he is not in sight
His face she can see, his laugh she can hear
Only she cries for is him to be near.
This battle with time continues every day
she knows she may never win
But still never gives up hope
Taking everyday as a new beginning.
Her porcelain skin has now cracked
through the crevices, memories flow
more sad and depressing the thoughts become
Everytime still mourns.
She pretends she is fine
But her pillow knows her truth
will it ever stop raining?
will she forever be mourning.
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