a man standing so tall with gray to show
his years of life,
a wife
that shows the world he loves
the ring that sits on his finger is on the hand that touched my skin
and ravaged my soul within...
the smell of stank bourbon poured daily at the same time
evaporates from the glass to cloud his mind
the rocking chair, saffron rice cooking , that nortthern dialect
a child of 7 years young never expects
this....
my stomach turns
green notted covers and gray rerun television start my nose to tingle
as tears swell my eyes, as i reminisce
over the demise of my innocence
Writing helps to heal....i needed to write tonight....