split up
split up with you
made me cry so much
split my face
in two

but then I remembered…..

split the bill
split it right down the middle
still paying my share
on the pittance that I earn
doesn’t seem fair

split from my folks
the jibes and the pokes
the cheap jokes
always at their expense
the pain it evokes

split my loyalty
between you and my friends
too much hassle
too much explaining
wasn’t worth it in the end

split my head
slammed it against the bed
and left me
lying on the floor
for dead

split on you
police came knocking
finally told the truth
spoilt the dinner
you hit the roof

split my heart open
empty tokens
thank god I’ve woken
no longer broken
in the recovery room

split up
split up with you
makes me laugh so much now
splits my face
in two





~  I wrote this about a year ago as a bit of an experiment, posted it in a couple of places and didn’t get a single comment. I wasn’t sure if that was because it just didn’t work as a poem or if people shied away from the content, perhaps thought it was autobiographical, which is isn’t. I sometimes write in the first person about things I have no first hand experience of, just to see if I can pull it off – I’m not a battered wife, a prostitute or a magician’s assistant…although the latter appeals if only for the great costumes.

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