She lays in flaccid hatred love leaving with a slam of the door
Staring blindly at chipped nails
Recognition
A necessity forgotten.
Children sit muted.
Knees up tight
They wait for something
Anything resembling
attention would do
Good or bad
It hardly matters.
He drags his coat along the floor.
A cigarette hung limply
From drink sodden lips
Rain drowning
the morals he left behind
Such is life.
Reah Roberts ©2012
Tales From Behind A Cushion 