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1.2k · Dec 2014
The Old Oak Tree
Mama always told me that he was a no good,
rotten, lowlife
son of a gun

And everybody knew to stay away from him
when the alcohol was running
through his veins

Really though
It was all my fault
For tripping down the stairs

And miscarrying the baby
A bright blue baby boy
Came out silent, so ****** quiet

He was still and tiny
It broke my heart in two
seein' his tiny blue hands

We buried him under the oak tree
In the back yard
right under the swing

I loved that swing

My husband loved his alcohol
and hated my incompetence
and liked to leave some marks on a woman

But I loved him
with all of my aching heart
even with all the bruises that shaded my skin

He was the best thing
that ever happened to me
I took all the beatings and the nasty words because of it

But when he brought home that woman
Well, you'd guess I was pretty upset
But I refused to go down without a fight

So that night I lit a few candles
Put on my best nightgown
Waited for him in the bedroom

Even managed to clean all the dirt
out from underneath my fingernails.
I was in the garden all day

After all it was hard work
digging myself up from under
the old oak tree
443 · Jan 2015
Sorry
I didn't know. I swear I didn't
I thought you hated me. I thought you left.
I wouldn't have gone. I wouldn't have lied.
I didn't know. I swear I didn't

The guilt.
It festers and eats.
Tears everything away to reveal ****** and narrow bone
A lion stalking

I'm sorry. I'm so ****** sorry.

The hurt.
It sits. It is a bruise being constantly
pressed upon. The ache never leaves
Never surrenders. A cage.

It's painful. It's so ****** painful

The regret.
I lies low in my lungs like water.
It's drowning me. I can't breathe.
So dark and watery.

I can't breathe. I can't breathe ******!

And all I can see through the tears is you.
Just you.
Walking away
from me.

I'm sorry.


So.
******.
Sorry.

— The End —