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everything she calls the past
is still happening now
no use running

she didn't have to feel
attached to anyone
just a sense of always being
on the edge of something

of freedom
of loss
is there a difference?

she could not bear to lose
the idea of him
the fact of him
moved her not at all

she had settled for something
which now, in a word
he proved had never existed

lying now amidst tangled sheets
that smelled of him
her quiet laugh beguiling
low and genuinely amused

to live for any thing
was as bad as
to live for nothing

she chose to go to hell
the easier, softer way

left with one word
out of all the words
she has known

love

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