I staggered into our front door this morning <br />and I can't find the broken home <br />I feel like we have <br />because you take good care of the place <br />while I can't manage to take care of myself. <br />Dragging myself through the kitchen I <br />tip my king over in the chess <br />game we were playing <br />I know you're just learning the game <br />but I'm sure you know that means I forfeit. <br />I can feel the warm alcohol tinge to my <br />sweat this morning <br />the soft metallic taste invoking more memories <br />than I want to admit <br />I struggle to take in the <br />glimmer of dust floating through <br />seeping in light <br />everything else with its soft haze around it. <br />I kind of thought everything would fall into place <br />for us this year <br />but until death do us part seems like a sick joke <br />with how much we've struggled <br />to make it through the first week. <br />I walk into the bathroom and remove my ring <br />I always wanted that groove in my <br />finger from a ring settling in <br />getting comfortable and making itself <br />a home <br />But I've never managed to make myself <br />someone you can live with. <br />I had hoped we could rest upon each others bones <br />when they got too old to hold us on their own. <br />I dropp into our bed and my head swims <br />will dull ache and deep remorse <br />as the future we planned blots itself out <br />another victim of broken and fermented promises.<br /><br />Charles Darkly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lacerated-r/
