The shell


With eyes as cold as a winter night
she watched,
she waited,
she hoped,
but nothing but the sickening thought of how she was going to dispose of this broken,
hopeless,
and lifeless thing came to mind.
She, for years and years, had been waiting for this moment,
but now that it was here she wished it to be over.
This was someone close to her,
a part of her.
And now that someone was gone,
she felt more empty than ever.
She had finally killed the biggest part of her, leaving her an empty shell.
Her soul.

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This Poems Story

trying a new style of poem.