The Cheater
Her words like fingers clenching into a fist
Tightening around his heart until the flesh oozes
From between the harsh cold words
She’s not holding back, she’s in her glory
He is her target a condemned man as she aims
And fires
Her machine gun of ridicule after ridicule
He is faithful husband to her the cheating husband
Mistaken for having an affair and now an example
Of failed love…
The magazine of insults is never ending
Her taking a breath is like a new clip placed in the deadly weapon
The pause between her sentences does not permit an answer
An explanation.
All he can do is turn and take the bullets in the back
He walks.
She follows.
Her words have materialised, so he thinks as he turns and looks at her
She has resorted to throwing missiles, cans of tuna at him
He doesn’t bother to check the damage to his head
It does not bother him; he is numb, and puzzled
What has he done, he walks
The gun fire gets softer until it fades to nothing except for her final words
Then she stops and calls him a coward, a liar, a cheat.
He leaves the store heart broken, wounded but alive
The words ring in his ear and bring down the tears
That betrays his calm composure.
She turns and brings her hands to her eyes
As if to block out the world
But she saw her mistake
A man dressed like her man with the woman she accused him of cheating…
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