MindWraith

to the window
I have looked through, aged, longing
longing for the scene to
bloom into roses but
the petals remain fallen
not a sigh, not a riffle
a carpet of clot
red seeping in
red seeping through
the white wooden sill
curling into the clear teardrops.
I say my goodbye.
…Goodbye
and gently,
gently, shut them