The WIdow

Mascara running down her saddened face she cries for him and runs her trembling hands over his faded photograph.His face haunts her nightmares yet brings a yearning back to her broken heart.All the times he would hold her so tight while she gazed into his loving lustrous eyes.Now she woke up reaching for a man who was no longer there just an empty space of silken sheets.The bottle of Vodka on the counter drowning it just a bit but never enough.Enraged she stands up and chugs down the burning lighter fluid igniting her agonizing disease.Tossing everything into those winter white walls while she screams out his name.Slowly going insane.Clawing at the floor trying to ease the misery.His dog tags clenched in her bleeding palms.The fragments of glass tearing into her skin like the thorns of a wilting rose so crimson.To drunk and deranged to care she's hurt.All those memories swarm her to remind her that her soldiers dead.He won't be coming home anymore and he couldn't marry her as he promised in June because they brutally murdered him in the line of duty.How hard he fought to keep his nation free and his woman alive.Now she was a zombie.Drained dry.Making wishes that will never come true.So by the window she waits as dust gathers.Days pass into years yet she never leaves that sill of faith.Watching for him.Lost to her mind.Dying in that chair.He was her world and never did she lay with another for no one compared.She was faithful to the end.An army soldiers beloved true never let him down even after he left this world and her.