Kelly's Blog

I stare down at the face

Of the detested

Of the intolerant

Of the man who ruined

Me.

I glower at the hands

That connected with my face

That were held palm up

Halting my next words,

That now lay together,

Peaceful.

I smirk at the Virgin Mary

On the chain bore round his neck

Christianity his crutch,

Mary his fantasy –

The woman who always listened.

I stare down at the face

Of my husband.

Tears sliding down my cheeks

Not for the reasons they think.

Oh what will I do without him?