Death Of Roses

Looking desperately at her forehead, not wanting to bow any further to look into her eyes, I notice a few beauty marks that if connected make a cube. As she lay into me with such eagerness, I stand with a stern face. Not a trace of fear showing, but inside I'm glowing with rage. I don't want her to know how pissed I truly am. Still unaware of what crime I committed, whimpers from within become apparent.

-You f**ked her didn't you? Answer me! You must of. Hanging out with her so much, you must of.

-But I only have eyes for you. What do I need to do to show you this? She's just a friend.

Hoping she buys into the world of make believe I weave with thoughts to leave, but for some reason I can't go. I must stay, if not for me, but the upcoming baby. Her pregnancy seems to be a trying one. What shall be the outcome? Will she finally be fed up with the deception? Her lonely nights without me as I use the excuse that I'm working "late." I can see the pain, but don't want to shelter it. Maybe, just maybe, I'm the one who should cry like rain because I never wanted to plant my seed in anyone else, but felt this need to spread myself thin.

-You want me to f**k her don't you? You know what? I don't have time for this s#!t!

-NO! Wait...*whispers* don't go...

I may be the guilty one, but her pain is too much to bare. I care enough to know when she's had enough, but now I make her feel guilty. Feel guilty enough to plea for me to stay, to not leave on such terms as these, but please lord there has to be another way. I grow tired and weary of the mind games. I want to play in another field away from the dramatic times. It seems the good times have passed us by and in a mental picture I rewind to all those memories when I feel the need to anger myself when leaving another strange bed with a sleeping beauty beside me. Leaving a bad taste in one's mouth, but for some reason, on impulse I had to...

On the porch she stands while I drive off...

-If you leave now don't ever come back!