Carpet Burns

pulled the rug from under me

left me sprawling on the floor

dispensed with the courtesies

heading straight for the door


he's gone now I'm over him

he'll do the same to another

its my fault, I ought to have

listened to my poor mother


that touch yet wands my face

his hands so large and strong

my future is unknown, I'll be

left without him for so long


that ripe smell on his clothes

the paperback he left unread

upon my bed his heavy pillow

the many words I left unsaid


knocks on the door thrill me

wondering if it might be him

through each day he recurs

the target of my every whim


other men seem so lacking

his assets were undeniable

if only he's not wandered

been an iota less unreliable


repining on his favorite rug

it might be a concrete wall

my hot tears welling, truth

is, I'm not over him at all



carpet burnsfuturerepiningunreliable

◄ Spokes

Concussion ►


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