Widow.

Like a thousand widows ululating for their loved ones that have departed; you lit a fire in my heart and then abandoned what you had started. Fainthearted, I attempt to heal my bruised and battered sense of pride, but this is often much too hard when there is no one in whom I can confide. I chanted your name, in the hopes that you would return. I offered you praise, as the vicious fire within continued to slowly burn. I refuse to acknowledge the newly granted freedom that has made me feel so light. I have recanted my belief that you and I were matched perfectly, so right. Love has taken its course on my life that you have left behind. I will reject love in the future, I would much rather douse myself in toxic turpentine. It made my bones feel brittle, and turned my tears to dust. Belittled my emotions, as I could not separate loneliness from trust. Now I must be strong once more, no longer forced to endure your cancerous couture. The disease you kindly referred to as love ravaged my insides as I began to feel so tired of. All that used to bring me joy, the happiest moments you've managed to destroy. Although I try to prevail, my efforts are to no avail. I will wear this blackened veil only as a testament that is apropos. I will restlessly remain as tired and timeless as a widow.