of loss

all she does is
stare at the screen
flipping through their pictures
smiling at him each time
till the pain punches through her again,
through all the kisses
and grins
all the memories of happier times

all she does is
wait for the the emptiness
to come and drown her,
for her sun's gone
and the cold's too much to take,
surrounded by his things
trying to reach to him
somehow

all she does is
read his texts all day
the promises
the love
and the little things,
typing out replies
she'll never send again

all she does is
cry into her pillow
and go through the motions
in a world
that does not,
for her,
revolve anymore

all she does is
die a little every hour