The Other Shoe

The Other Shoe

Because it’s winter.  Because you’re you—
an annoying pebble in my shoe.
My darkest dream, my shuddered sigh.
A tear unfallen from my eye.

You call my action radical.
I call your action terminal.
No more the tiny cringing wren,
no more the clucking, docile hen.

This time, your insult vilely hurled,
my reflex impulses unfurled,
my anger at the optimum,
I call you ingrate lazy bum.

I kick you out into the cold
in an action brave and bold.
I lock the door and pull the blind.
Not cruel, but suddenly I’m kind

to myself, so long obscured
by all injustice I’ve endured.
On my bed, once shared with you,
I sit and drop the other shoe.

Better alone with what will come
than with a selfish doltish bum.
I square my shoulders, fall to sleep.
No Lord my soul will have to keep.

Don’t know where this came from. It’s fiction fueled by past feelings of escape from a bad love affair, I guess. Blame the prompt words.Prompts today were winter, because, radical, optimum and wren.

3 thoughts on “The Other Shoe

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