Dripping black tears on my denim,

Sobbing noises fade in the dark room,

Words that were hurled as the spears

from my intimate wielder

crumbled the falsity of love,

My cheeks are not ready

for another raised fists,

His antipathic “husbandry” role

seems to be pale green & queasy

when my walk & the due are counted,

If the vow was meant to be broken,

why should I be a part of life’s farce?

So my caged soul needs to be free

to bury this blanket of despair

that has been covering me for years.