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…