Three Times

Three times.

Three times, in the middle of the night

I’ve woke mid-nightmare as I shove you so hard, out of our bed.

Get out

Get out

My subconscious said.

 

The echoes of your actions suppressed in my mind;

it’s hollow haunted corridors run filthy with your lies.

 

Three times.

Three times, in the middle of the night

I’ve woke to cold sweats and you clung to me, as a babe to a breast.

Get out

Get out

May I never rest?

 

The shackles you once thought bound me to you forever,

are rattling off with each succeeding night terror.

 

Three times.

Three times, in the middle of the night

I’ve woke to hot tears and palpitations, my heart filled with dread.

Get out!

Get out!

This love – is dead.

© K.N.Liddington

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