when the evidence of infidelity is everywhere.
rationalisations thunder above them
in storm clouds and lightning strikes
his veins as he flashbacks the day
she discovered the closed door as a
an instrument of torture,
the moment he poured out his heart
and she called the glass half empty,
the point when he slipped off the
edge of happiness into the lonely
freefall of despair.
now he sits somewhere between
what should be and what is.
(it's very hot, and hard to breathe.)
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