The wind rustled through the trees, blowing the leaves ever gently, much like her hair.
The old oak sways and creaks, mimicking the motions of her perfectly flawed body.
Suddenly, the wind dies, all the stirring of the woods around us comes to complete calmness.
The leaves quite their rustle, the oak ceases its movements; total silence.
As she stares into my eyes there, 'neath the stars and the moon, only the gods as our witness.
She plunges the knife into my heart, fake sorrow within her eyes, as she steps off.
Walking towards the man she is leaving me for, in his little Ford Ranger; devastation.
Falling to my knees, I look to the sky as if it were the last time I would ever wonder at its sight.
The sound of his engine starting and the passenger door shutting; deafening.
I don't recall whether I did so in my mind or actually aloud; the screaming.
But I do know the tears I wept had seeped on for so long they'd turned to blood.
I do know that the season of fall had turned to winter where my blood stained the innocent snow.
What had happened to all that time?
Were I truly weeping for months?
Was I still in fact, alive?
The questions only now cross my mind.
Because I have only just now seen her and she saw me, or the shell of who I once was, at least.
©jarnmarr
J