She watches with glazed eyes.
Tepid pools of aquamarine
drowning her spirit
in depthless cold.
Hair tremoring before shadowed face –
The yearning was a transparent wall
Swallowing fluorescent light
with only ripples to tell the story.
If only the lies came easier
a projection of normalcy.
But she is dying
Weighted beneath the rippling surface of her eyes
Struggling to breath.
She is gathering at the corners of her eyes,
rolling down pale cheek,
and brushed away by shamed hand.