Widow in the Wake I sleep, I dream of embracing arms My blanket and subconscious covers me away from ways of harm The man in the sky is one my eyes knows no cry I open to the world in wake, often without comply A groan on the left leaves my sunken soul to hide away each day Fix a smile with a flat, walking through your house with a deflated face His fists on the table means that breakfast is late once again Eggs on the left and on the right, his special ballpoint pen The job sections in the paper shows no lead, I dare think in my head While he cleans plate, I clean his bed Before he yells about the cat or dog or anything to get a rile I leave for work to finally get my paper work filed My eyes catch the office television on for the first time in a year All remaining happy hope leaves my mind, news shall surely capture our fear From the many windows, my heart and I jump when proximity becomes no more A plane flies below us, fire rises, smoke galore Our floor shakes, my legs collapse for the fall An epiphany strikes me, the slight similarity tells all Many people have stepped on this floor, not thinking twice Bruised and beaten, by my lover, and this now failed flight My sleep is the only time I feel loved My mourn comes with mourning, for when I wake it is as if I have died My husband so wicked, his nights and days the same On this 11th day of September, it marks my breaking wake I see the shattered windows, the freedom to end my ache I cannot fall, for that has been achieved much before now I won’t be a coward, they think, a safe way out I jolt, the air filled with ash and debris Since I am a widow in my wake, my death shall set me free
Posted on: Wed, 11 Sep 2013 20:10:03 +0000
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