I sit alone in my bedroom
you sit alone on the couch.
You go to work
I stay home.
You never call.
I never text.
Our wedding portrait
is on the wall
to remind us of who
we were
in case we forget.
We still have sex
but we are not lovers.
We are strangers now.
This is what happens to marriage
it slowly kills your passion
and wilts your love
into a dying flower.
I can’t say any more
about the subject.
People mix up
my fiction with fact
and my marriage is still alive
it is just at times
I am not afraid
to admit
that it feels dead.
Jeopardy is playing really loud
and I am writing again.
Photo Credit: Infomastern Flickr via Compfight cc
So true.
I understand.