its called rejection wendee, get used to it.
its called being lonely wendee, get used to it.
its called unhappiness wendee, get used to it.
its called empty wendee, get used to it.

people are funny. they say give it time. sing a song.
make the choice to be happy. go out. do this do that.

what they fail to realize is, without what was once had
there is nothing left. the rug still sits crumbled on the floor.
the legs still cannot hold me up. i fear this lump they call a person
will stay heaped in a spot until i fade to nothing.

there is nothing. only holes. only brokenness.

wendee no longer is wendee. instead a fake of the wendee
that once smiled. once laughed. once walked tall with knowing she was
secure with hope and dreams and love. pure love. once held when she was unhappy.
once told that she would always be safe and sercure. once she was told that wendees heart was her home. now the home is vacant. bare walls. no perfume. no sparkly eyes.
no embrace.

this wendee is not that person. this wendee is hurt and and sad and rejected.

a kiss on the head like a dog whimpering for attention.

get used to it wendee - this is now your life