The churning of my insides breaks the silence.
Alone, I stare. This box talks to me.
Each smell I sense, every sound still heard.
That soft touch, once felt, burns.
These hands beg for you, crushed by despair.
All dreams have died along with my heart.
The dark in my mind is a mark of the time.
Past, but it remains. Nothing is the same.
Assignment: use line, "the dark in my mind is a mark of the time"