Summer nights. Dark skies, stars bright.
Full moon.
He walks into the old hotel room.
She’s there. She’s always there on those
Nights.
Him. Her. Them, Together.
The smell of whisky and burned
Cigarettes.
Hours later, he leaves. He always leaves,
Never stays.
He walks into the house, Home.
Lays in bed, next to me.
His side, my side, us meeting in the
Middle.
I turn to him, eyes meet.
Kisses goodnight.
His love, my love, our love.
Mine, different.
Her smell, the marks she left behind.
He knows, I know.
I stayed, not love, dependency.
His power over me.
Until, oh until,
I left. Fully.
Croque-Melpomene 