Analysis of Gone

She enters her bedroom, slams the door.
She stands there, not moving.
She looks at the polaroids of them together.
She cries.
Anger replaces sadness.
She tears and rips the polaroids in half, every single one.
Her fingers start to bleed with the effort.
She sinks to her knees on the floor, crying again.
Shredded polaroids loiter the floor around her, some with blood.
He’s gone. He’s not coming back.