on a tuesday, they crashed at high speed

sometimes she thinks, why wasn't I screaming?

someone should have begged don't leave me,

there should have been more tears, and a rainstorm.

but all that she got was that noise

and with no one around, did anyone hear it?

she left the site alone - there wasn't a lot of choice

and by thursday his clothes had gone from their room

quietly she mourned the lack of histrionics

on sunday the broken glass was still on the floor

without company, laughter seemed so dishonest

she still wished she had stitches to pull apart instead

admittedly there was little she could have done

he left in the biblical sense as well as another

still though she's alone, and sobs in monday's sun

she would have almost preferred him to die, really.