Poem

I drove thousands of miles

For an audience 

She told me she was busy

To wait a week

I was not a priority

I’d felt that

Deep inside

If she lies about love 

What else does she lie about

She doesn’t love you

Not like that

She no longer loves like that 

Or has another 

And lives a lie

She slaps your face

And is so superior

She’s always the victim

Living the life of blame 

Victim ship 

Self pity

You do this

It’s repetition compulsion

Always caring, giving, serving

It’s dutiful and good

Admit your fault

You lack discernment

Are generous to a fault

Love your neighbour as your self

Self sacrifice

Is for children and elderly

For the sick and true

Not for romantic love

She turns that to a transaction

She doesn’t make time for you

Her time is for more important ones

Not you

She can make a case like a lawyer

But love is present

Not in a week

Not tomorrow

The depth of the angry and unforgiving

Withholding

You can not see me today

Maybe in a week

Disdain