Broken Images

They were just Broken Images standing before their own broken items. The window he looked out of was his way of getting out, her stories were the outlet she wrote.


1. D.A.N.

He stood in front of a broken window.

She opened her car door.

The window was no where near as broken as her heart.

She had tears in her eyes as she drove.

Scattered all over the bedroom floor where bottles, beer.

The passenger's seat filled with tissues.

Nothing seemed so dangerous, nothing hurt so much.

The driveway seemed only further away.

He stared out the window, she isn't coming back.

She stared down the sidewalk, he isn't coming for her.

He fell to the ground.

She slid to the floor.

He let a tear hit the floor.

She had no tears left.

He drank more and more.

She wrote more and more.

He finally had drank too much.

Her battery ran dead.  She wanted him back.

He was unconscious.

The car started as she drove once again.

The darkness of death crept closer in on him.

The darkness of his house was closer now.

She opened the door, seeing him on the floor.

He was gone.

She dialed the hospital.

It was too late.

They got there too late.

Little did she know he was gone.

Little did he know she still loved him.

Maybe if they hadn't fought....

Maybe if he didn't overdose.....

Maybe is she didn't go back.....

Maybe if it didn't happen......

Maybe just maybe it would be okay again

They were both just Broken Images.


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