“My Worth”

Picking up the mallet 

There is a shelf full of odd stories

Several golden leaf, written letter titles

Reading the one book with a hidden picture of a drawn mallet on the side pages

Pool of blood covered on a bare floor

Does it equal up to a bruised body?

Does it equal up to a loaded gun, pointed at the forehead?

And she says…

Some men…..”

Before she wacks him on the skull

Breaking soil in the garden to bury that dead weight deep

She twitches

She can’t move

Pail of bleach, soiled mop

Blood dyes the chemical red

Glance over to the shelf

Look for any clues

There is a light that shines overhead

She feels blind

Twicthing again

Sleep paralysis, she has fallen into

Long day of work from a late shift

Sipping coffee

He greats her with a sensual kiss

Hot shower he takes to wash the sweat away

Quick to pack a few things to leave

Message on the fridge reads “I need some time alone”

Grabbing mallet off the rack

Worth enough to her

Walking into a quiet house late

She plays a crying sobb well

True emotions she feels

Quick words from him down the hall

Fake comforting in his words

“I’m going back to bed”

And she says…

“Some men….”

By: ObligatoryInsightPoet©

4/1/17



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