Poetry: Last day

(Here's a short, half-assed poetry for you all. The two people are actual characters in Static, but I haven't  posted up to their introduction yet.)

It’s hard to say how long she had been out there, but it didn’t matter much to her at all.
Not at all.
I suppose one could say she was being creative, but many others had done this before her.
Maybe she wasn’t so creative.
I thought about taping this, so we could watch it later and laugh again.
Preferably over hot chocolate like we used to.
I remembered then that I wasn’t going to drink hot chocolate with her again.
I guess I’ll have to make due.
Maybe I’ll drink with the others for once.
But I could never drink what they drink.
Perhaps I won’t drink again, never again.
That is, until she returns.
If she returns.
Do
Not
Think
About it.
Ever again.
Do not
Cry.
The she leaves.
The day she said her final goodbye.