They don't know what it's like
coming home every night
to a cat and an empty bed
dark room, the gloom

and nothing to say
and no one to listen
or who once listened
and now will not speak

and now it's just these walls
and they don't listen
but they speak

in whispers
they speak

this is the part
where she slams the door
and you kick a hole in it
and she hits you
and you walk to the kitchen
and she follows you
and she asks why
you kicked the door in
Because I'm mad
I would rather
hit the door than you,
you say
because you love her
because you love her

this is the part
where you ask her
if you're wasting your time.
Am I wasting my time?
Running off with friends
doing things behind your back
careless, irresponsible, selfish
and she doesn't understand.
No, she'll never understand
because she's mad
and you tell her
it's not that I don't love you
but she doesn't seem to care
and then she asks
are you going to leave me?
no, no I can't
because I love you
because I love you

and then you leave her
for two days
you leave her

and then you come home
to a cat and an empty bed
dark room, the gloom
she's gone.

The harsh reality of uncontrolled tempers bears bitter fruit a lesson from my childhood.

Jack

This is terribly painful to read. It is a credible work but I prefer more happy go lucky poems. I like to read stuff that tickles my toes with a feather or something that reads like the hair on my chinny chin chin.

But Phantom...this is life...not all of it tickles us.

Fallenoak, an emotional, sad poem, written from the heart.

~~lb~~

this is beautifully written, the effect of the breakup of the lines is really successful.

It reminds me of myself, when I go through something dramatic I find myself writing about it when my feelings are still high.

Fallenoak,

You have painted a humbling, life-like portrait.

I was engaged, once. We had a (verbal) fight. I suggested a week break from talking to each other, as I knew that my words had hurt her. I needed a chance to work out my salvation. I couldn't leave her. I loved her. I sent her flowers mid-week (it was our engagement anniversary). I couldn't help but ask her if she had received them. She responded that she had, but questioned why I had sent them. "We're not together anymore", was what she said. I never got a chance to speak to her again.

It is the bitterest of wisdom, but only by it may we learn.

Thank you for sharing this. Incredibly well-crafted.

Jeremiah