Tuxedo

Tuxedo hanging on the cupboard door.

Burgundy bow tie hanging off the jacket pocket.

A rose, poking out of the button hole, its colour matching the tie.

The corner of the best man's speech peeks out from under the pillow.

On the floor, right next to the perfectly polished black patent shoes,

and the crimson blood,

lies an empty bottle of pills, with a story to tell,

but there was no-one there to listen.