Her Last Tuesday

she killed herself on a Tuesday
because it was too far from payday
and the kids were getting restless
the house wasn't clean
the husband was out late
because she's just one more name
in a million names on Social Security

she tried last Friday
but her heart wasn't in it
even though he screamed at her
about her cooking
and his unstarched shirts
but her girlfriends invited her out
to drink and smoke the sting away

I flip the pages of my datebook
wondering where my life went
into coffee breaks
and why so many appointments?
meetings that never got anything done
and so much left to do, I won't
be able to cope by Saturday

the pressure just got too much
and not just once, but many times
she took everything in her pill box
but the feeling never went away
it lingered like a deep cut
and his voice doesn't stop

the rope got tossed in the trash
and taken away on Monday
just when her throat was feeling tight
the gun was out of bullets
used up on deer on Sunday
just when her heart longed to be burst
the rat poison had to go
the Wednesday her son was born
just when her stomach panged her skin

she killed herself on a Tuesday
because Thursday was all booked up
and the kids didn't love her any more
the sex stopped feeling good
the husband was a jerk
because she's just one less name
in a million who needed some security.

© Jess Zelhart, 2005. Thou shalt not steal.

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