Cleaners

I am stuck

Right next to

A hard place

And you left

My rock

And the keys

That use to open

The doors to

Your heart

Don't work anymore

Locked

And I'm left

Clueless

Silverstones don't glisten

Like your eyes

Use to

Both when

You smiled and cried

Lied in my arms

As I lost

Myself in your soul's windows

And the wind

Blows through

And caresses my curly tresses

That lie on

The tears in the fabric

Of your favorite dress

They curl more

From the wetness

I watch the MAC

Mascara race down

Your caramel face

Leaving footprints

In your cheek and neck

My lies follow

Trying to comfort

And sew together

The torn seam

Although it seems

This pattern

the intricate silhouette

And my actions

Alike

Are not as

Attractive as when you

First wore it

And I am no tailor