receding in my brain.
Visions of a life lived by their plans.
It never worked. I am no more.
The picture of perfection that
he craved walked out the door.
Searching for a little more,
I find there's too much there.
I managed to remain so unaware.
He liked it that way, so I stayed.
Not realizing that he'd staged it all.
The climb and the peak and the fall.
He wouldn't share his parachute.
He left me with his awful moods untamed.
Like images receding in my brain.
Raging in the soul of their remains...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .