Decorating during a breakup

He asked her for help deciding
what color to paint his front door

She looked at him in silence, pondering –

Does she take her stand now, leaving him
to choose without her, showing him
she’s the strong one? Or does she pick –
making him think her name every day,
each time he sees a splash of color
out of the corner of his brown eyes?

In the silence they stared deeply
each knowing what was at stake
what had been lost and what
could be found again

She thought of someone else
who must surely have the key
to his door – their door – by now

“Paint it red.”


I’m also publishing this poem at Will you write with me?