He didn’t see her dissolving
the joy of her diminishing
too busy with proposals, contracts,
he came home late, left early
ate food she prepared, read the newspaper
spoke only to fill a void
didn’t notice red eyes
tissues, how she slept too much
Although he thought her lazy.
She’d changed, wrapped up in nothing,
He thought, if he thought.
He was busy. Too busy.
She’d changed. He called her nasty.
In the dark, alone, she cried
feeling future days swept away
she’d never reached out before.
She didn’t reach out now.
9 thoughts on “Separate”
Thank you, Phyllis. 🙂
Your welcome, indeed, Sascha!
sad picture of these lives….but so well written.
Thank you, Anne. 🙂
Well written, Sascha, lot of lovely phrasing, dissolving, diminishing, swept away and so on. I don’t know why, but I feel an urge to say that I have never behaved like that. As you’ve implied, it does take two for that situation to continue. I think that such silent suffering rarely happens with Latin women. I don’t know whether I’ve mentioned, but long ago, I was leaving to work at university on the weekend, and as I walked by outside, a nameless someone in our first floor apartment tipped a bucket of soapy water on my head . This gets the message across.
lol Yes, I would think that would do the trick.
Nice comment, Steve. I threw a drink on someone once–that seemed to get his attention. Women, in general, do like to suffer.
Thanks, Maggie. I was trying to write about a woman’s depression, which I don’t think she was suffering on purpose. I was probably too subtle. 🙂