Broken Heart

woman-1006100_1280.jpg

She screamed at him,
letting the world know
how much she hated him,
loathed everything about him.
She paused as passers by
slowed to listen,
some stopping, staring,
keen to see what happened next.

How had they come to this?
Once their love had been all consuming.
She’d adored him,
worshipped the very ground he trod.
His faults were minor,
hardly noticeble.
Even his many affairs
had been easy to forgive,
to overlook.

But this was too much.
This had destroyed that love,
pushed her patience to breaking point.
She thought she could forgive him anything
but she couldn’t,
not this.
He stood there,
confused,
looking blankly at her,
not sure what to say.

The gathering crowd watched on,
waiting for the climax.
What more would she scream at him?
Would he fight back?
They hoped not.
This was a woman who’d been wronged,
lied to,
cheated,
humiliated.
They were on her side,
ready to cheer when she delivered the killer punch,
hurt him
as he’d so casually hurt her.

There was a collective gasp
as she took the gun from her handbag.
Nobody wanted this.
Someone screamed ’No!’
but it was too late.
This was to be her final act,
her way of showing him what he’d done,
the love he had destroyed.

The gun exploded in her hand
and she fell,
fatally wounded.
Silence followed.

MikeJackson©2016

Looking through some old journals and found the beginning of this ‘poem’ that I started over four years ago. Thought I’d finish it and give it an airing.

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