Part 2

Sometimes she tries to hold
her head high when she sees him
walk past, but ends up hiding her face.

And sometimes she comes to think
that nothing is getting better,
instead spinning, spiraling downward.

And sometimes she finds
something else of his in an
old drawer or cabinet.

And sometimes she cries into
the one old t-shirt he left behind
(which is starting to smell less like him).

And sometimes she still wakes up
screaming at the thought of watching
him fall (on repeat).

And sometimes she keeps the phone
on her bedside table because
she never knows when he might call.

And sometimes red and blue lights
flood the windows of the house and
illuminate the once darkened streets,

Because the one time he decided
to show was the day her practice
was put to good use.

And sometimes he thinks about her
and everything he could apologize for
and sheds a tear or two.