A Cup of Tea Went Cold
By Daniela Lilly
Mouth wide open, unmoving, unclosed,
A hollow cave for brittle promises
Left for dead.
Fragile, as the last tear
That brought peace, unwanted.
(And) With her last breath,
A cup of tea went cold.
Raw golden silk stained red,
A prayer book left to corrode
In the drawer of her left nightstand.
The tide went calm and quiet
As her whispers became a sigh.
Her bones, once bars of iron
Now broken shelves
left to gather dust.
Surrender, unasked for, unbidden,
Sunken eyelids, kissed by fading echoes
That once inhabited
A name, her name,
Forgotten, unfinished.
Daniela Lilly is a starting writer and college student who writes from a small town in Western Maine. She recently moved from her Marbella, Spain, in hopes to traverse across the lexical richness of the English language while on a self-discovery journey through words and poetry.
