a short poem about betrayal
Several unanswered questions past midnight.
And it’s half past too late to care.
Our uneaten dinner was at seven sharp.
Warm dessert undeserved and unfair.
Dirty clothes still worn wrinkled and stained.
Notes are torn and shred on the floor.
The pen ran out of tears, but didn’t complain.
The last ink surrendered, no more.
Front door opened, thought to run away quiet.
But, everything here is mine and not yours.
The locksmith came and went, but he didn’t why it.
Now why can’t I just bolt the door?
A stronger would have met you wherever you were.
Let vomit the truth with abandon.
Left as I came without keying the car.
Nodded a pitiable smile for the stand-in.