Last Love

Folded, wrinkled note
Ink blurred by tears
Faded memories, crumbling emotions
Past feelings of ecstasy
Rush through her mind
A breath of air
The glass falls from her hand
And shatters on the cement
It echoes itself in her ears
Yet she does not hear it
Without thought
She clutches the knife.

Time to make the wrong things right
Out of mind if it's out of sight.