Call It Quits
Sleepless nights are obvious.
one redbull, maybe two.
bloodshot eyes blow your cover.
Laying in bed swiftly tapping keys with your fingertips,
hoping to capture his face on the screen.
Several days fare, still not a clue of where to find him.
A trip to the coffee shop is desired.
Standing negligently in line, peaking over your shoulder.
Sitting at a table for two, in the far corner, rests the face of a long search.
A view from the side, reviels a young red head.
the two are found snickering as they talk.
Violently, tearing the wedding ring from your finger,
let it dropp to the ground, cover your face with shame,
and dash out the nearest door.