Three To One
She walked out tonight
Three steps to the door from where I sat
Three
To
One
The door handle turned with a click
Like a trigger hammer being pulled back
She looked back with a sigh
That wisp of hair in her eye
At a man that had written his own eulogy
And hated every word of it
The compression the door created in the room
As it closed
Squeezed the air out of my heart
Made it turn from red
To a deep, cancerous purple
Shriveled and vein-y
Like an old prune wrapped around
A
Coal
Black
Pit.
I sat where she left me.
The air
Became stale
Smelled of piss
Was filled with tight, selfish sounds
Oxygen tanks
Choked laughter
Too much being pushed through an opening
Too small to handle the volume
I never moved again.
--Eric Marley
December 2010
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