Maybe when she's older she'll understand why she can't hold a relationship with her mother and sister and all those boyfriends that left with sagging hearts and her boss who made it clear she wasn't ("fit to work in this office") with
him. And when she's home and the tv flutters between cable news (and reality tv) and her watered down glass of pinot with the ice cubes dying and melted she feels at peace. And when the door slams
shut from the outside where another (ex-lover) walks away and the ashtray he left, (but that she never used), is filled halfway with his dust she'll wonder why apathy kills and then go on not caring. Because
with another day comes another interview for a job (as a copier) and more cute skirts and business attire to pull her from the house and out that door. And when she comes back to the plush couch she'll notice
the change in her mood that comes with more glasses of wine and more slipping opportunity but that won't make it any different here in the home. She knows the couch is her's, (with its floral print and frayed pillows and left over stains of ***** and wine), it can't leave her too.