Routine

At midnight she feels the coldness come
The guilt of pleasure runs from her veins
Desire alone needs punishment



At morning she stares at her painted face
Hiding the tears, masking her pain
She's already made a river today



At noon she begs for forgiveness
With purple knuckles and shaking limbs
Kneeling on the cold tiled floor



At evning time she speaks a lie
She pushes desire and pleasure away
Convinced its absence brings happiness





At dusk again the coldness comes
This time from the chill of the wind
Beating against her cold skin





At night her feet shuffle endlessly
Down an unlit path she cannot see
Leads to a shingled roof





At sunrise she is not alive
Efforts succeeded, she's lost everything
The endless routine was placed to rest
With that fragile girl that couldn't last.

Routine by Kaitlin Tormey is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.