Had I pen instead of keyboard I might shred the paper out of bittersweet anger
drab thoughts, remorse
I'm a zombie, just a corpse.

Had I pen I might let the ink bleed ,
unsure of my thoughts and what I might say, instead the curser blinks away

Had I no intellect to stay silent,
I would try to interrogate, scream, just to understand.
I guess that's just what a woman sometimes gets from a man.

This is a bad hour; emotions drained beyond the waking norm.
Disappointment reads thick in thoughts,
each ticking moment set it in,
without means to rewind the clock. stop.

but had I brakes, I might have used.
Might have thought it through
On how cliche , might of thought of what this could do.
It is what it is he did say,
And all along I knew.

© 2015 Kate Volk