The Decision...

She spread her arm on an empty pillow
almost blinked on a walking shadow
the sheets were still warm
survivors of a late night storm
she closed her eyes
chasing that memory away
she had to get up for another whole day
she gathered herself to breathe his absence
still the covers retain his fragrance
he left his towel wet as usual
leaving in a hurry was not that unsusual
she sank into the tub
letting the steam fill her up
her mind kept whipping with standard hits
"why did you accept to be his second myth?"
why does it hurt
every time he slaps the door on his way out
why are you in his shirt
when he calls to say he has a meeting
that he never told you about?
she got out of that tub
with all these bruises she has to rub
packed all her clothes in an old suitcase
her eyes were rolling the room in a race
she took off that silver ring
wrote a note,leaving one more thing
beside the key
she left the shirt
why does it still hurt?
even the tears were trapped
slapping the door on her way out.