She visits the store every Saturday.
Her children rampantly destroy the aisles,
She struggles to maintain control.
Judgemental eyes question her parental prowess.
Her hair untidily secured by thinning beige band.
Her fingernails are notable jagged and ink like.
She devotedly monitors her offspring,
Her shoulders overburdened from the load.
She continuously checks her phone for a message,
That she knows will never come.
He wakes up downheartedly,
Ignoring the several missed calls on his phone.
His neck covered in purple blemishes.
A young female wearing his striped shirt turns over,
He nudges her hand of his exposed chest.
He reaches for his pack of cigarettes and a wrinkled photo.
Looks up the magnolia pasted ceiling,
Puffs out a shroud of fumes to hide his liquefied eyes.
Finally acknowledging his flashing mobile.
Begins to dial a number he knows he will never call.
Why does he do it?
She just can't figure out.
It went from kisses from the lips.
To the mouth being manipulated to shout.
Their combined tears will eventually tear them apart.
He wants to forget because he can remember a time when they were perfect.
Is it to late for them to try and re-start?
Or has the relation-ship wrecked.