Better.

Her tears mar the windowpane.
She makes herself get up from her spot
at the window. She makes herself a cup of tea,
lilacs bloom on the window outside
the front door. She makes herself remember what she
was doing there, why she was there, what she
was supposed to be doing. That the garbage
needs to be taken out, that the dishes need
to be done. The tea is strong. It makes herself
reflect on things that have happened that day.
Her husband came home from work. The dog
barked. Someone mowed the lawn, which was filled
with crabgrass. She loved good
deeds. They filled her with a sense of belonging
she does not feel doing anything else. She thinks
it makes her see better. Instead of worse.