Taste Of Anger

In The Fridge

I enter the house late, 

My feet swollen, exhaustion in my eyes.

In one hand, a bouquet of pink tulips, 

And in the other hand, a grocery bag. 

I take off my high-heeled shoes,And enter the kitchen barefoot. 

I don't turn on the light, 

I put the groceries in the fridge. 

I put away the sadness and anger, 

I put away your deception. 

I put away your mistakes that you try to fix with flowers. 

I replace the vegetables with the tulips you gave me. 

I stay in my room, smoke, drink, and write until I fall asleep.