A marriage gone sour

Smells curdled. Lumpy and unsure.

What does it want to be? Solid or liquid? Stay or leave?

It seems alright,

But is alright what you want to be?

Death of a marriage. Doesn’t matter when it started dying.

Just know that it did. And you didn’t save it. She didn’t save it.

Love left in incapable hands. Doomed to turn, curdle, cramp, shutter.

Pushing “I love you” out of your lips. Choking on affirmations. Singeing hands on each other.

Mourning a ghost while finding a stranger in your house. Checking every cabinet, box and closet. Trying to find the thing you lost.

I would rather lay my head on a stove than share a space with a sour, seeping ghost.