What She Wants

She wants a divorce

That is what she wants.

More than the polished tray

The tea cups and the toast

I bring with runny eggs.

Bedridden and lonely

She knows she cannot leave

But has already left.

So what am I to do

But polish the silver

And boil the eggs better?

I can let my tears flow

When the shower hits my face

It all goes down the same drain

My grief without a trace.

This is what love is

That is what she wants.

Two bit sunken shoulders

A chin that hangs too much

Just a sign I know her

Bedridden and lonely.

Published by Michael Sean Erickson

I write, act, and produce films in Los Angeles. Everything else is conjecture.

2 thoughts on “What She Wants

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