I’m lost, I said, though I knew she was sleeping.

I remained in the bed, sitting,

staring where love  once was,

now some dark shape that could have been a corpse in the bed remained.

 

All that was special and magical in life

had suddenly become commonplace and tired;

there was no remedy or break from it.

 

It seemed as if the gold paint had flaked off

and now I was left staring at a mud statue.

 

Life was crawling by and all I wanted was to run,

and I waited so long to get out of the gates.

 

I wish I never looked back.