the heart harvested #4

i was hoping to die actually,
but now they're telling me that i'll live...

i've been here for three weeks,
he's been here everyday,
by my side,
with glasses of water,
roses, red, yellow, white...

white roses are supposed to symbolise peace,
i wonder if he knows that...

i am going home today,
he asked me if he could take me back to 'our home',
he hasn't said 'our home' in years...

i say ok because i am not ready to face my mother,
she's only been to see me twice,
she thinks i need to be evaluated,
she thinks i may be mentally unstable,
my mother thinks i may be mentally unstable,
the thought makes me laugh...

on the drive home he plays our wedding song,
i sing along with the words,
he hums the melody,
i watch him...

a week later we are driving to the hospital again...
we haven't been speaking.

i sleep in our bed,
he sleeps in the guest bedroom.

i watch his facial expressions as he concentrates on the road,
what a serious man, i think...

i don't love him anymore...

the doctor looks at my wound,
he smiles and says i am recovering nicely.

he puts his palm on my belly and asks,
"are you expecting a boy or girl?"

and then i remember that night for the first time...

how he walked over to me holding the gun,
how he kept whispering that he was sorry,
how he took me up to our bedroom, my hand in his...

how he stripped my clothes from my body,
how he ran the bath and washed the anger from my skin,
how he layed me on our bed,
how he turned out the lights,
how he made love to me until my tears were dry,
how he held me tightly until sleep overtook him...

i remembered seeing him alseep, peacefully,
i remembered getting up from our bed,
i remembered walking down to the kitchen,
i remembered sobbing uncontrollably as i emptied his plate into the trash,
i remembered how the cold metal of the gun felt in my hand as i pulled the trigger out of pure frustration...

i thanked the doctor,
i followed my husband to our car,
i sat in silence as we drove home.

i opened the front door,
i walked up the stairs and into the guest room,
the laced lavender curtains were gone,
the old oak treasure chest i had bought at a yard sale two years ago, was nowhere in sight...

the bedroom was bare,
with the exception of an old wooden rocking chair,
and a crib...

i haven't left this room in four days,
all i do,
is hold my belly,
and cry...