undone

unsure
of what this pain
could be,
so early in months,
she stood wet
and limp
against
the cold
tiles
of the shower.
the blood
in rivulets,
like thin screams
down her legs,
puddling pink
at the drain.
why would she
even
tell him,
what was to come,
or end.
he had so little
to do with this.
and now.
pale, limp,
crushed under
the weightlessness
as it
leaves her
body in broken
pieces. so much is
solved, so much
will always be
unanswered.