Husk

I saw the brown withered husk
of you
just lying in the sunshine,
the dust motes perching
on the crown of your skull.
I stared and thought,
so this is what it's come to,
what I have took forward to.
A withered, ghastly thing,
a waif of the world
lost in her own shadow.
I stroked the leathery skin
and up close,
you weren't so bad,
just tragic.
I know you tried.
You don't need to tell me.
You were full of everyone else's life
but empty in that space
where your own should have been.
I lived inside the sunbeams
streaming through your window,
and all the time,
I wish you did too.