Fidelity

So you aren’t messing around?
I would give him a long stare
later that night,
hands glued to my hips:
a power-stance.

Taylor Swift coached me
never to forgive a cheater,
But would he choose her?

I had just wrapped the new CD,
putting a bow over the cowboy hat of
his favorite country singer, and
put his beloved cheap beer to chill
in the fridge for his birthday.

Red hands torn and tipping
his last shitty beer into
a drunken mouth at
two in the afternoon,
I contemplated
laying in the shards of CD
and a blanket of wrapping paper
in the fetal position,
just for a second.

Author: Liz Hardaway

Sometimes you'll find me blissfully reading a Rolling Stone's profile on Post Malone next to a pumpkin-spice candle, sometimes you'll find me biting my nails trying to meet deadline. Life's a coin-toss.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s