Not The Jealous Type
She however was his killer

Not The Jealous Type
She isn’t the jealous type,
he said,
tying his tie with hands that had touched
someone else that morning
She knew
the scent, the silence
the lazy lies
She didn’t scream
just stirred his drink
served his plate
watched him eat
He choked on a word
stared at her
like a man finally seeing the sea
as he drowned in it
No ambulance
no goodbye
just her smile
and the scrape of her chair against tile
Now she sits in a cell
four steps long, steel and spit
but she sleeps like a log.
She laughs when the lights go out
laughs when they call her name
I wasn’t the jealous type,
she snarls,
Ha Ha
However I was the last thing he ever saw.

About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
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#Marie381UkWrites
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