That Night

Alone in the dark at night
underneath a dim streetlight
chest heaving, breath constricting
feeling as if she is going to die.

It was quarter to ten on a windy night
on which for her life she had to fight
a night she wrote her last poem about the midnight sky,
the night it was predicted she was going to die.

A strong feeling of fear, then ignorance.
the cold silence a feeling of bliss
in contrast to the rest of her life's misery,
she wanted to run away from all this.

No place to call home.
Nothing to call her own.
Nothing but her last midnight poem
and that too was stolen...

It was ten o' clock on a still night
The same night she put up a massive fight,
the same night she was way up high
fighting to not fall over the edge of the bridge- to not Die!

Her head bouncing off rocks,
her clothes covered in mud and grass,
her body being dragged,
dragged to the bottom- to the speeding cars.

She let go
let him slide down the sandy slope
let him take everything she worked for
leaving her hysterical, crawling to the side of the road.

Concerned voices filled her ears,
she looked up and saw strangers' faces filled with fear
she started crying but had no tears
and begged them not to leave her here...