The Apology

The Apology

Smirk dallies
From saturated lips,
As Miss Bitch reappears.
Rushing to run off,
She won’t read pain
In tears.

Words like knives
Pierce deep inside.

“Arrive! Arrive!”
She banshees,
Then “Die”.

Liquid pain splashes
Fist-to-chest
Kick-to-slap
Absorbing hostility
I cling to life
To love…

Levis are good handles.
My hands held tight,
Until she broke free,
Fighting me.

Boiling anger
Burned my lungs
Erupting in warranted words
Never wished
To be said.

Crying, I ask to be back,
Stuck in the past.
But she crushes hope,
Turning away.

Those jeans were always my favorite.