Saturday, April 26, 2014

Something on the Darker Side


Every weekend
you choose
a weapon
(my family,
my career,
ambitions or dreams)
You hurl it
with deadly force
and pinpoint accuracy
at what is left of
my love.
My trust, the casualty.
After I have fallen,
you carry your
oblivious indifference
in your beer-stained cloud
to bed,
leaving my wounds and I
unattended and alone.

Next weekend -
You will not so easily
find me in range.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love that! It is pure genius!!!