I Write Poetry

What He Doesn’t Deserve

She danced on the pictures he broke
Bloodied feet on what might have been
He danced around venom he spoke
Skirting the messy in between

She fidgets, covers nerves stricken
Before all the swelling can bruise
He storms out in a righteous blaze
Though it’s he that lit his own fuse

She can’t smell the thick, toxic gas
Or remember who struck the match
He kicks the door with raging force
When he could have just turned the latch

She squints in the light invading
Outside, as polluted as in
His eyes are blind in smogy haze
And his lids feel heavy, but thin

She sinks to the floor below her
Dirty and thick with littered life
He sinks a flask of amnesia
His mind walks the edge of a knife

She cries until dry, and silent
Until a friend carries her home
He denies with all that’s left in him
Because now he’s truly alone

She leaves because there’s no option
Before losing her mind and nerve
He leaves because it’s more effort
To keep what he doesn’t deserve