Get Out!

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


I’m sorry,

but I can’t love him.

At least not now.

I can’t stand that mouth of his,

that spiteful tongue,

cavorting and gyrating

in such fiendish glee.

 

I’m sorry,

but I can’t love him.

Not yet.

I am powerless against the force of his shrieking,

both parties wrangling

to and fro.

The volume of the night continues to grow

until he decides to give the last and final blow.

 

I’m sorry,

but I can’t love him.

Not ever.

I’ve grown tired of the clamoring,

the blameful nights. The events occurred too fast

for me to grasp. The routine of them

had filled me with a passionate ire.

Fire! Fire! Fire!

I was vulnerable against this searing fervor.

Paralyzed

forever.  

 

I’m sorry,

but I can’t love him.

I tried.

I gave it my best shot, but I just couldn’t stay.

He had stoned my ears raw

and numb to overhear.

He spewed that noxious

spittle, far and wide,

night-to-night

until there was nobody;

nowhere left for him to aim.

Nothing in his sight.

 

Lonely.

Friendless.

All on his own.

His famed toxicity swelled him up

full-blown.  

The vile door

on that man

had finally been shut.

Locked.

Bolted.

Barred and chained.

No more pain shall he inflict

and unleash.

Nothing left for him to stain.

 

I’m sorry,

but I can’t love him.

Not after what he’s done.

I couldn’t listen to his piercing words anymore.

 

That’s why I left.

I slammed his door

and began to run.

It was either that or

stomach through the gut-wrenching nights,

one by one.

 

Get Out!

I didn’t want to hurt him,

or cause him to grieve

but I just had to leave.

 

It was just before dawn

when I left his house.

I turned back to look at it

once more,

before the daunting thought of my spouse appeared

at the front door.  


Submitted: November 08, 2020

© Copyright 2020 M.H. All rights reserved.

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