Mondays Muse

Photo by Elizaveta Dushechkina on

The Thing Unsaid

Her back is tight
Her lips are sealed
He stares at her leaving
But neither will yield
She sniffs and shudders
He crosses arms over chest
The distance between them
A chasm, bereft

He curls his hands into fists
Refusing her appeal
She understands, silent
Some wounds refuse to heal
He keeps trying to hide
With his liquor and lies
He does not love her
But cannot say goodbye

Gripping her courage
She opens the door
It closes silent behind her
Darkness invades his world
As her car starts to move
He whispers a curse
He does not need her anyway
Things can always be worse

Rebecca R. Grusendorf © 1.9.23

Hello everyone. I’ve had this song in my head since yesterday, but when I tried to write about it, this came out. The contrast between the poem and the song is stark. Perhaps you have some thoughts on this. I’m just letting my muse go where it will. Hope you have a wonderful week. God Bless.

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