When the soul returns to the place of its birth,
life always lingers within the memories of those grieving deep within despair.
She was trapped between letting go and holding on.
Torn in the reality of her daughter drifting unto a
Tears fled from her heart,
dripping like rainfall from the depths of her sorrows.
She awakes to every sunrise, numb to its rays.
Her only memento of what she lost was cemented
in the existence of a red stuffed bunny from her
She sits with it by her side,
cigarette pressed upon her dehydrated lips.
She drowns her pain within every high that fills her lungs.
The red stuffed bunny symbolized an ashtray, outing the flames
consuming her inside. Inhale, exhale, tap the ashes upon the
bunny; a habit to cope with her dwindling survival.