She

She lies on her bed
How did she get here?

Alone on an everyday night
Intoxicated, needles powered out
A hum plays inside her ribcage
And a tiny fire is lit

Her shoulders fall, her chin tucked into her chest
Knees drawn in
The evenings blur into each other

Unachieved ambitions lay sprawled on her bed
Like revision papers
She has no intention
Because life’s living has been snatched away from her
Like a miscarriage

Like an unwanted baby
She lies rejected and confused about who she is
With no-one to talk to, and no-one listens
Only silence meets her company
Small hot tears flow when that heat in her chest
Increases its intensity, ever so slightly
She smothers herself like a mother to a child
Other times, she wails

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