Dead & Gone
A tear slides off her cheek,
as she packs away their lives.
She wraps the china in paper,
in the box next to the knives.
Just across the room, he stands.
In his hands, he holds a book.
She realizes it’s their wedding album,
when she takes a closer look.
He looks up from the pictures,
And for a moment, he meets her eye.
He looks away when he sees her tears.
She lets out a ragged sigh.
He asks if she wants the records.
She says no, she wants the books.
He washes down the walls,
while she pulls the curtains from their hooks.
And then she hears a small laugh,
and he says, “Do you remember when—”
and with a sob and frown she whispers,
“Don’t start that again.”
Finally, the house is bare.
The memories have all been taken down.
He stares at her and remembers
a bride in a long wedding gown.
He says he will call her.
He’d like to see their daughter soon.
She nods and looks away,
and emptiness swallows up the room.
They step out on the porch. He leans down to kiss her goodbye.
Once again, he says he’s sorry. Once again, she starts to cry.
She asks him if she’s pretty,
this new woman that he’s met.
He just closes his eyes and touches her
and wishes he could forget
All the pain that he’s caused her,
the way he destroyed all she had.
He thinks of things they’ve gone through,
and he can’t help feeling sad.
They walk to separate cars.
And she knows she has to go on.
But when he drives away, she grieves
for their love that’s dead and gone.