and in the dark of the night,
she let out her melancholy.
desperate, pain filled sobs bloomed out of her chest,
the salty liquid of her tears watering her garden of sorrows.

and her flowers of loneliness blossomed as if blessed by the spring,
her roses of love growing unwanted thorns,
and her grass growing tiresome weeds,
as her trees dropped rotten apples of memories and thoughts,
onto the damp and sensitive soil which was her emotions.

and as her bitter tears fell onto the soft pillow which carressed her head,
all the crickets, fireflies and insects of the night took up her cry of misery as well,
becoming her only companions and comfort on nights like these.