She left.
Left with silk robes and leather luggages.
I was left.
Left with soiled pennies and a running box fan propped on the window seal.
I see the rooms, side by side.
Coral blue and pastel pink.
I dread to walk by.
Therefore I drown in bitter pungent misery.
Nothing but day old tuna and concentrated orange juice in the fridge.
She complained.
I drowned.
I anguish over how I misused my love.
Its too late.
Can't take back the knuckle shaped bruises,
The dried tears.
I admit,
We were young in that pickup truck of 1972.
Sorry for dragging you in my bitter pungent misery.
Watching all of it leave the door has me drown.
Its my birthday.
I sit alone gorging and filling in cake to escape the taste of,
Beer.