When she confronted him, she was drunk and exasperated.
Cigarette in hand, her fourth cocktail on the table,
She knew his annoyance and was quite pleased.
“Suffer,” she exhaled. “It will never equal what I’ve been through.’
The restaurant was full of families, couples and birthdays.
People turned to star, and the waitress suddenly disappeared.
She spilled that night,
Nineteen years of hate and she wanted revenge.
She broke him that night,
Drunk and sobbing, demanding to be held.
“I didn’t ask to be born!” she shrieked, hurling a biscuit at him.
He sat before her, defeated by her accusations.
Her mother sat to hev right, tears dripping off her chin.
She finished her drink, stubbed out her cigarette,
Lifting herself out of the booth.
With all eyes watching, she stumbled and wobbled out of view,
Defeating herself.
This piece originally appeared in Issue 1 of Left Jab Poetry Magazine, published in Deccember 1996.