A cut so deep

I beg him to keep

This marriage alive

So I can heal.

I’m bleeding out

As he saves his clout.

His image can’t die

As it kills me.

Popularity.

I sigh desperately.

I apply cold salve

To my open wounds.

A balm so smoothe

I feel my heart move

To give grace

He doesn’t deserve.

He takes it for granted

My love firmly planted

Roots grown

Through all times.

To his image he still tends

As I am left to fend

For myself

In this lonely world.

He doesn’t cherish me

Yet he still cannot see

Even though he doesn’t leave

He shut the door wide open.