Asphalt

by Sarah E. White

He walks in with her
Defeated, deflated
Dragging his head low
It scrapes the asphalt
As he puts one foot in front of the other
Upon the asphalt
At least this feels real
Stinging his face
He wants to hide his tears
To collapse in a quiet release
In the defeat of surrender
A battle lost in silence
Fought by a brave man
Yet he walks in with her again
The same thing every other day
The focus is her, married to her mania
Surrounded by her selfish attempts
Wondering when she’ll succeed
When he won’t be able to save her
Every other day, he walks in
He sits, he waits
For her to recover
From her reality, or not
While he slowly withers
Patiently waiting for whatever happens
Waiting to begin a new day of his own
A day where he doesn't walk in with her
A day like tomorrow, which is his
Like it should be
Real doesn’t have to feel like scraping asphalt