You condemn me with eyes
of molten lava, crush me
beneath the weight of your voice.
Earth against my skin, you erupted
without warning. My body is covered
in your volcanic ash, glistening
silver in the heat of your gaze,
and you whisper lies that choke
my lungs with smoke.
Now your game has come to an end.
You’re singing your apologies
in that tone that burns me
from the inside out,
and now you’re the one standing
there all alone in that lonely pool
of canary light, and still I’m falling,
falling again for your unstable
smile and shifting words of love.
I’m lost in the looming
shadow of what you’ve become,
but I cross my heart and hope
to God that I vacate the premises
before you erupt again. Bags packed,
sixty-five dollars in my pocket,
I’ll leave the danger zone
and escape this volcano
that you call a relationship.
© Copyright 2016 Faith Dolack. All rights reserved.