He moved away the furniture.
And closed the windows and blinds.
Shutting out the world completely.
Dark visions now peppering his mind.
As the blood pooled on the kitchen table.
And the wallpaper pealed over to see.
What had started in love and tenderness.
Was now silenced from its desperate plea.
The face stared back with a knowing.
The cut lip spilling secrets and shame.
So he threw over it the yellow tablecloth.
And cried while he whispered their name.
Then he fled out into the world again.
This had not been the first nor be the last.
Yet this one had dug in much deeper.
And he swore now, it must remain in the past.