The cigarette will burn away
The ashes left upon the table
It leaves the marks on the tray
Pleasantries concealed
She sits there,
Wide awake, than ever
Her cup empty,
Another by it's side
Filled halfway
The coffee, cold
Crumbled cash on the side
"It's done", she mumbles.
"I've done it"
Relieved, her eyes glistening.
She's held her tears.
Too much
Too much.
Her pocket was too small
For intertwined hands to fit anyway.
It had to be done,
He may not understand
But she does,
She's smarter
She's always been the smarter one.
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