The Fight (National Poetry Writing Month #17)   Leave a comment

Sounds crashing,
Glass smashing,
Scattered on the floor.

I couldn’t miss,
the perfect fist,
you left upon the door.

I couldn’t stand
as you brought that hand
Hard across my face.

I tried to speak,
I couldn’t think.
I had to make some space.

The door was shut,
I had enough.
And then you start to worry.

Insults flying,
sounds of crying
“I’m so sorry,”
“I’m so sorry.”

You’re sorry,
until you do it all again.
You’re sorry,
until I get in your way.
You’re sorry,
until you don’t want to be.
You’re sorry,
Just to make me stay.

Posted 04/17/2014 by Shaman in National Poetry Writing Month 2014, Poetry

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