Keep Coming Back

She lands on his doorstep day after day
Looking like a dried-up sponge
It appears the scabs have healed
But the scars try to hide under the skin
And every time he smiles
Thinking she won't run away again

Well darling, too little too late
He's got you by the throat now
Maybe you could have spoken
When you had a voice...

Thank you for writing this poem.