Where She Left Her Husband

She left her husband on the roof
Skipping stones across the lawn
As if it were a pond
The water green, the ripples small
Too small to see

She left him in the car
In the garage
With the engine running
Saying, 'Get out, get out'
Please, please get out

One said, the other not said
The engine running
Then her, running

She left him in the bed
Cuddled up with spit up pills
Blue ones, red ones
Ones with names
Impossible to say

She picked out all but the blue ones
Because they seemed the nicest

She left him in the kitchen
With knives against his wrists
Her kissing the floor in front of him
Because he wouldn't let her near
Her saying, 'This is me.  This is me.'

'This is me kissing you, see?  See?'

She left him on the bridge
Arms spread, threatening
Promising, rocking
Back and forth
Back and forth

The cars stopping
The horns honking
The police arriving
The scene, the situation
The embarrassment

She took him home
She put him to bed
A little blue pill
Still under his pillow

She left him with the gun
Under his tongue
Click, click

As she thinks
I'll die, I'll die of this

I'll die long before
He puts together enough stength
To live
Or to do it

To just do it

And so she left him

She left him

Calmly watching golf
On the living room couch

A zen-like sport, she thought, and that put her at ease

Not really, but a little

A little


And now when she passes the bridge
She thinks of him
Her husband

And she says a prayer
For those who live

For those who live
Among the dying

She prays
That someday
That they make it out

Alive