Empty

The room was empty, you could hear the echo of her tears has they hit the oak wooded floor; she was hugging herself trying desperately to simulate the way he’d hug her. It was useless, she wasn’t even doing a passable job at it, yet still she stood that way with her arms folded across her lonely breasts. The nakedness of the room mirrored the feeling that had come to reside in her heart, from the inside she felt naked. He had become a fixture on the walls of her heart; hell, he had become the paint on this most precious organ, making it all sorts of pretty, desirable, and vibrant. His scurrying off pealed the life from her; what was she to do now, an empty woman, in an empty room?