I get to the house and drop my bag.
I’m almost shouting ‘ honey I’m home’
But I know nobody is home.
I’m not even dating,
Let alone being married.
I try to get alive with my country music,
Coincidentally they sing of jilted lovers
Desperately in love, that’s not what I want to hear.
Quickly I sink into my head,
To find myself, or find company in there
There’s always tea for warmth
Sometimes it’s a book to read
Others I’m having my writing socks
Then I fall asleep. It’s been a long day
Tomorrow is another
It’s a cycle.
Chronicles of a single.