Her Ripped Blue Jeans

You’re screaming at me through the kitchen door
I’m not quite as pretty as the one before
Her ripped blue jeans keep staring at me
In trouble again for the way I clean 

The neighbors complain every time we fight 
And I’m not quite sure if I ever was right
He won’t throw away her damn blue jeans 
Got the ghost of his ex in the house with me 

You beg every time for another chance 
Say you will change and be a better man 
Can’t count the times that I’ve forgiven
Your endless lies and promises broken

Finally lit a match to those jeans of hers
Cracked a smile as I watched them burn
The flames turned a pretty shade of red
Almost the color of my favorite lipstick

Gathered my things and heard you shout
Mean angry words that I tuned out 
Caught the first ride and waved goodbye
To those damn blue jeans and my old life
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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