Don’t Look Back

Says, he’s sorry
It will never happen again.
Again. And. Again.
And yet you know. It will.
Deep down, in your blood and your guts
But your heart is deaf to you.
And all ears to promises,
Testosterone tears.
Head-in-hands desperation… supplication
Pricking the innocent party, with guilt.
A pretty plea for forgiveness, dressed in white linen...

One fine day
He won’t leave the bruise of a melancholy artist.
Instead,
It will be
Your nose exploding
Into your skinned head
Your ears pounding
With the good kicking
As you crawl
Across the floor
Your eyes…
No prize.

That’s what it will be, spooling forward. Quickly.
Pull on your shirt baby,
And don’t look back.