4:00 a.m. the garage door
creaks open, feigning sleep,
sodden footfalls trying to remain
quiet, nerves and bottles
knocked about, door opens, baby
you awake? Please not now, not
like this, the soft groan of the
mattress, snores begin, the smell
of gin fills the room with a crash,
quiet sigh of resignation, slowly
picking up the pieces, each sharp
shard tearing at my heart
creaks open, feigning sleep,
sodden footfalls trying to remain
quiet, nerves and bottles
knocked about, door opens, baby
you awake? Please not now, not
like this, the soft groan of the
mattress, snores begin, the smell
of gin fills the room with a crash,
quiet sigh of resignation, slowly
picking up the pieces, each sharp
shard tearing at my heart
copyright sherry obsheatz
7 comments:
This is so sad. My heart would be torn too....
You nailed it...again!
but it is that night he doesn't make it,, that will bring the truest tragedy,, and leave you longing for his gin soaked breath,, and midnight ramblings....
Thought provoking and sad.
oh god
your garden just got another flower.
this is a nice blog so please keep on gardening it
this is sad...but a garden that has beautiful white roses has to have some prickly thorns.
this is a hard place to exist.. the waiting which you have portrayed so well.. i can only imagine counting the moments till 4am...
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