September 5, 2010
By , Oshawa, Canada
Frost kisses her cheeks and nose.
There are no lights on the street.
Her small section of the world is still,
The wind softly caresses her hair,
pushing forward tendrils to gently brush her cheek.
Mist swirls from her nose and mouth.
It rises higher and higher,
disappearing into the icy air of the silent night.
She breathes,
It’s not necessity,
only habit.
She brings her hand to her chest,
trying to feel the beating of a heart ,
that can no longer beat.
She is the un-dead.
The damned.
She tilts her head to the sky,
and waits,
at last it comes.
It slowly begins to rise over the mountains.
A small smile tickles her lips,
as the warmth of the sun spreads over.
Birds chirp far in the distance,
but the girl is no longer there to hear it.

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