A Running Collection of My Poetry

11. After

11. After

The silence ended like an atomic accident 

Alone I waited for detonation 

Cringing with every creak of the house 

Until a sharp arctic gust entered with her

I shrunk back, afraid of eye contact 

The betrayal must radiate from my face

The wrath must be engraved 

In her stone tablet eyes 

Her presence roared in my red ears

I was prepared to run or scream

Whichever came first 

But the second I so much as raised my head 

My soul came forth like vomit

Bloodied, bruised, and paralyzed

I tried to recover but the room was flooding 

So forcibly our eyes met

She surveyed the mess like the homemaker she was

And without hesitation calmly put everything

where it belonged

A band aid on the wound and warm water for the aches

The flood was draining and I was clean 

My chest felt like a balloon

And I wondered why I was so silent in the first place