She was shocked
when the sun came up in the morning,
came up every morning.
She only saw
a beam of cold light
in the hot, dark room
where the men kept her
where they abused her,
but the world went on without her.
She preferred death to the light
through the vertical blind,
so she walked through the glass
only slightly bloodier
and just as naked
when she reached the other side.
She couldn't run
so she walked
until she found signs of life.
She made it up the steps of a farmhouse
and collapsed into a dead heap,
but at least she died free.
The woman found her
when she went to check the mail,
and she realized the world is not a puzzle.
The world will continue
without you or me.
She pondered the cruelty
of all those missing pieces.
She envisioned humanity in a chess match with God,
man losing but taking pawns.
She wondered how many pieces it took
before anyone would notice.
She wondered how many disappeared
make up a pang of guilt.