Dinner Was Great Sweetie
“Honey, I’m home.”
3 AM
Drunk Again
A plate of steak and potatoes
On the table
A note reads
“Microwave it.”
Tasteless
Rubberry
The steak is plain too.
Shared bedroom
He isn’t there
Another note
“You said you’d change.
You’d stop.
Liar.”
And just like that
He’s gone.
I can still smell his cigarette burning in the glass ashtray
On the small mahogany nightstand



















