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