Cigarette and a Glass of Wine

listening to Mary J
outside, the thundering from the storm claps scream my mood at the moment
smoke from the lit addiction, I become overwhelmed with emotions
I sit in the dark, crying
from my eyes, black tears fall as the moisten mascara cries with me
lips pressed against the glass
the red liquid graces my throat of anger
knot bigger than my migraine, I continue to smoke
feeling the essence of a woman scorned,
I hold unto the glass closely to my chest
taking deep breaths, I cry more as I think...
I think...
I think...
I think about us
dressed seductively in my black lace lingerie
hair pinned up with big curls flowing
shower prepared skin caressed with scented lotion and perfume
high heels stacked four inches for the ground
legs crossed over with my finger tips touching the edge of the phone....

I've noticed....it's obvious....you are well and missing

you haven't answered, yet
after seven calls
after ten text messages
after two voice messages
you're three hours late....with no explanation
wasting my time and my energy

no ceiling

I ask, "why do I even bother?"
I know the answer. I'm in love.

the cigarette is out
the smoke is clear
the bottle is empty
the phone battery is dead
my heart is burning
as I sit....waiting

finally, as the key enters the lock
footsteps hits the marble floor
the smell of "Vera Wang for Women" lingers in the air
I turn around with a cheating feeling in my womb

I just turn back around after noticing the lipstick on your back collar
just wanting another cigarette and a glass of wine

Copyright© 2010
De'Shundra Gibson, All Rights Reserved