When it was time for her to go, it was also time for me to let go. Once an irritant is washed out, they say you can start seeing better immediately. All that stupid tears and all that rubbing of the soul, until your eyelids would cry out, no more, no more. And then, just like that, one fine day, I wake up, and she was gone. As the train chugged out The tracks cried out in senseless creaks of half despair Hear the poem here