I sat on the table, looking at her
protests and grief comes out,
like daggers flying right out of her mouth.
Each swallow, I felt it
somewhat stuck to my throat,
as I listen to her incessant rants,
speaking badly of him,
just because it hurts.
I couldn't help but wonder, did she
really love him,
the way I thought she would
or did she just do it, because even
after all these years
she only thought she should.