-30 Degrees

No one loves you for your grit 

That goes unexpressed 

In the quiet of your room--

By candlelight and pressed deep 

Into the lines of your palms. 

The broken window 

Still glittering across the floor 

Mingling in drops of liquor; 

It all goes away 

The minute their eyes meet

Your clenched jaw, angry fist--

No one loves you for 

Your leashed demons or 

Your controllable rage

Banished to the darkness in 

Exchange for soft words.

The carpet still has stains 

That sink into the boards below--

Every cup on the shelf 

Is misplaced and chipped.

Neon lights through open curtains 

Draw attention to the dust 

And dirty dishes overflowing.

Your grit is what you’ve got left 

And no one loves you more

Or hates you less for

What you’ve suffered alone.

Reviews

[Vol]

Anna,
Maybe not, but they will for your imagery. Powerful stuff, tied to a tragic subject. there is so much turmoil everywhere we look, wars, rumors of war, the dissolution of civil discourse... we all must keep our heads down, our eyes open, and learn how to build our backbones up for what's next... This is a strong poem you've got here.
(one suggestion, if I may, The "their" in line 10 seems disconnected from the flow?)
Vol