She’s bored, he’s poor, she’s living, he’s existing. She really loved you baby - but now, she’s gotta go…
She gets her hair done, steps into her Jimmy Choos, smooths out the creases in her red satin dress - not for a man - for herself.
She’s her own dream-date.
The screen door slams behind her, she throws her keys onto the front porch and doesn’t look back. There’s a whole new life to live – BUT FIRST – she’s stopping in at her favourite, sweaty, all-night-get-tight booze-can.
Gonna go stompin’ and be-boppin’ all by her own damn self, thank you.
She’ll sort out the rest of her life in the morning…
HOLDING ON TO LETTING GO
When you are the one left behind
To feel the staggering shock of how your body feels without the protection of it’s other half - Without the weight of nonchalant leanings, arm & arm walks, midnight staggers.
The breathing in and breathing out in rhythms known only to each other, is only a memory now…
The hardest part, is letting go.