a bit Of a let Down

Lying,
sprawled,
among pillows, pills and year old magazines

there is a bottle on the desk
and she rolls a small red-and-white number between two fingers

waiting
thinking
hard.

She slowly, and painfully levers herself upwards
and brings her aching body to rest against the window pane,
the glass cool against her flushed cheek.

A tear slowly traces her face, then drips down onto the sill.

Cracks, spread from where the tear fell
they seem to grow,
ugly and black, crisscrossing like spider webs across the walls.

Squares lift themselves up from the table,
and the elements float out of the window,
the pink, green and blue dancing away.

A plane glides smoothly into the airport,
but it suddely disappears,
into a blurr of coloured  lights
that rise up to meet it.

She drops down again,
and her hands caress the letter
she runs her fingers over and over the inky paper,
and the last of her fear evaporates.

She is ready now,
"I'm sorry", she whispers,
as the darkness finally envelops her.