Settle? What the hell?

Settle for two weekends.

Settle for hugs on a Monday,

For smiles and smelling his hair on Sundays.

Tears are straining at my eyelids as I hear the words,

Yet I do not listen.

My heart breaks open.

Whispered bedtime songs

Cascading.

I'm falling over my own pointless diversions.

My childish attempts at secret pleasure perversions.

Regret, scratching it's way

Into my protected heart.

He asks

"Why?"

He studies my face.

For something more than indifference.

Control is a myth.

A superpower afforded to him, not me.

His heart

In pieces

On the kitchen floor.

Next to the discarded carrots and peas

And red crayon covered door.

Too exhausted to fight.

To strain at the threads of

Blame and shame.

I leave,

Walking away from a house,

Painted in muted tones,

Matching our years of marriage throughout.

No longer a mother to child or man.