Flickerings

The patterns
Predicted themselves
As habits became ingrained
Mireya had been in the hospital
Since July 4
And he hadn't noticed
Not really anyway
He had a passion for giving
Just not to her anyway
Not capable
Stiff
Obligatory
Christening her with obligatory hellos
She lay alone
Fourth floor
No sparklers or fountains of color
Celebrating independence
On the outside
Pale
Haggard
Lonely
Agoraphobic at times
But inside her mind flickered
Dancing
With abstractions
Mainly black and white
Beanbag chair
Red
Closet
Kiss
Fear
Bike
Chain
Caught
Foot
Blood
Gravel
Hard
Cock
Suck
Damn it was so easy
Mireya went there
Remembering
Flickerings of a former life
A fantasy
Unfulfilled
Tempting
Wanting to be loved
Trying to survive...before....
That was before
The sweet nectar
From the oleander trees
Death did not reach her in time.