Her dreams take her to a hidden yearning;
one where the clacks of a typewriter lull her to slumber.
Her heart, she cracks before sleeping,
leaving fossilized memories to wander away from her vagabond love.
The memories bring forth a dark fog which wraps itself lost lovers and fragments of her broken heart.
The seams are stitched each morning, as her heart is stiff from prodding needles and mindless thread.
Her dreams consist of mutual love with all the stardust dusting her bones to shine.
When her eyelids seal,
darkness chills the marrow of her bone
as her spine rattles with lost eyelashes she tossed for boys she thought could love her.
She seldom speaks of this,
for who could love one who can't?