Mourning

I was a girl,

Who collected pine cones and bird feathers,

Who ran soft-footed through the world,

Treading on stardust. 

Now I am no more. 

I have ceased to exist. 

An empty hull sits behind a desk,

Like an empty seed pod when the seeds have long dispersed upon the breeze. 

I was a child

With nothing stopping me,

The world before me barely waiting

For me to witness all there was, in silent awe. 

I was so small, 

A tiny speck of dusty earth

Cradled in the safe embrace

Of a world that lent me life and strength. 

Now all is gone. 

There is no more earth, no hard-packed ground beneath my feet. 

There are only four white walls holding me in,

And a brain that shriveled up and died, long ago. 

I am empty. 

There is no peace, there is no conflict,

Nothing will stir me from my torpid stupor. 

I am a corpse, waiting in a shallow grave.