The Long Walk Home

The morning after, from HER point of view.

 

I woke up this morning with an aching head,

In a stranger’s sheets, in a stranger’s bed.

On the nightstand was a note left for me.

All it said was “Lock the door when you leave.”

Getting up, alone, with my guilt and stress,

 I quickly search for my little black dress.

As my memory slowly becomes restored;

I cringe at the thoughts of the night before.

I was used for a purpose then tossed aside,

He said he liked me, but I guess he lied.

He seduced me into his arms with ease.

Longing for love, I was eager to please.

So willing to give what they want to take;

Trusting false promises they always make.

Sinking down to the floor, I cover my eyes,

 Trying to find a way to rationalize,

Hope let me see what I wanted to see;

Now shame has replaced any dignity.

The rejection spreads like a cancer inside,

No amount of liquor can long ever hide.  

Gathering my things strewn left and right;

I walk home in my dress from last night.

I keep my head down and take the back way;

 Same mistake, different day.

Reviews

[Stack7]

Great. Just fabulous. Brilliantly captures the emotion of such a morning. You are an outstanding poet. OUTSTANDING!