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Like a chocolate in the sun.
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Mary slowly sank into a puddle of depression,
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Self-loathing and cooking sherry.
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The only colour left in her life was her beloved Damian,
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Only an arm's length away but as distant as the moon.
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She lost interest in the world and it lost interest in her
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as a horrible apparition began to haunt.
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She started to spend her nights
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Making pompoms and eating two-minute noodles.
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Each day, with strength and shame,
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Mary trudged to the letterbox in hope,
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Only to swivel, shrivel and slink back inside.