poetry, writing


Her brown eyes looked at his, filled with tears.

His brown eyes were black as coal and cold.

Once where love glistened and glowed, there was no more.

Her voice quivered, she knew it was over, but she wondered,

What did I do wrong? Wasn’t I patient and kind?

Didn’t I show him how much I loved him?

How I’d stand by him through anything?

His voice was icy and distant. It’s me, not you.

She knew things weren’t right for a while.

She thought it was wedding jitters; she’d had her own.

The first cracks appeared months earlier.

She came back in his life, a sweetheart from childhood,

add on top of that, their families were friends.

It burst wide open a week after her 30th.

She sat there in her nightshirt, broken.

Her life shattered, her future plans destroyed.

Her life reset to those days she had in college,

when serious heartbreak was fresh and new.

This one was harder, as there was more,

a home and finances to work through.

It wouldn’t be ripping off a bandaid,

but rather a slow, painful torture taking months.

But, she not only survived, she eventually thrived.

It wasn’t until years later she would realize,

he had set her free.


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