Inside wasn’t any better.
I thought it might’ve been easier in the warmth.
I decided to change my clothes.
Maybe that would make me feel better.
I kept saying “It’s not your fault”.
I was thinking I could forget.
Not a chance.
I had to come back to real life.
I wanted to yell and scream.
I threw pillows.
I threw plates.
I threw the picture.
She was gone.