There’s a woman not long dead
who rests down
by the water’s edge.
Her final words were,
“Please. Just get it over —”
She never did get the second half
of her sentiment out.
I made sure she never would.
Some things are best left unsaid.
In the end, it didn’t matter anyhow.
I knew she was ready to die.
And she knew it, too.
* * *
There’s a woman who rests down
by the water’s edge.
She wasn’t good for us,
but you tried to make it okay.
It cost us—that’s on you.
I knew keeping her was wrong.
I just wish you had, too.
* * *
