Three Poems from Kelli J. Gavin

The Wake Up
By: Kelli J Gavin

He smells the coffee she has made for him
Every morning as long as he can remember
Coffee brewed strong and black
Never with cream or sugar
Just the way he likes it
Bold and shocking
No coffee to smell this morning
Only the memory of a scent once anticipated
He rolls onto his side to see if his bride
May still be sleeping next to him
Her small portion of bedding not slept in
She was never there in the night
How did he not know this
Didn’t he feel her stir beside him
Muscle memory takes over
When he thinks she was
Always there next to him
Memory has failed him
When he remembers she hasn’t
Been beside him for quite some time
Coffee hasn’t been made in 4 months
Every morning since
He continues to wake up
Believing he smells the coffee she brewed for him


How Do I Know?
By: Kelli J Gavin

How do I know? I know. I just know. My kids tell me every single day. The way they laugh at my ideas. Sometimes even scoff. The eye rolls for sure communicate it to me. I am old. No longer cool. No longer fashionable. My ideas are formed from life experience. My music choices are worse than old school, now vintage and retro. My clothing is borderline, going to the gym/ultimate mom comfy clothes. My movie choices can’t be tolerated. So be it. Let me be old. Let me listen to music they hate. I love my leggings in four different colors. The Breakfast Club and Sixteen Candles really are classics and I like to watch them without someone complaining sitting next to me. And well, my ideas? They are called The Been There Done That approach. I have been there, messed up, realized doing that was stupid, and hope to share a life lesson with you. Call me old. Do it. I dare you. I might even show you my dance moves if you are lucky.



I can’t pretend anymore
That your words don’t affect me
That they don’t slice and make me bleed
I wonder if you will ever hear me
If you will be able to understand
I give up most days
Trying to get through to you
Maybe you have heard
Yet choose to ignore
Do you need to hear me cry
Shall I wail and scream and carry on
Deliver daggers and wound you
I can’t do it and I won’t
That anger, that hate is all yours
Not mine and I won’t have any of it
I refuse to possess the rage you pour out
I will walk away every single day
Each time the fire begins in you
And one of those days I won’t return
Then who will you choose as your target

Note- Hearing women speak about verbal abuse in relationships with the opposite sex is something that breaks my heart. If you need help, contact The National Domestic Hotline at 1-800-799-7233.


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