Crying On the Coward's Birthday

Emily wakes up laughing but I see tears upon her pillow. She's so far away from shoulders and sleeves. Remembering surrendering. No more pajama tops or secrets in the dark, just a flame burning slowly down to spark. Where and when then and there she's losing track of details. She punches the clock and puts together pieces of permanent plastic. She hears a song, her strength is gone. She lays down her munitions. Crying on the coward's birthday.