Crimson

The pungent smell of strawberries filled the emptiness.
Mashed chunks of crimson bled so deep into beige carpets
They would have to forfeit half of the security deposit
To return the apartment to move-in condition.

He was not home when he said he would be.
She called the cellphone twice, then once again.
Each failed attempt brought sharp pains to her chest,
Shed light on evidence she had chosen to ignore.

The credit card bill for meals she did not consume;
His muffled voice through doors and walls at 2 AM;
Printouts of directions to places she had never been,
Where he had never taken her.

She had convinced herself to believe his claim -
He was being a friend in the time of need -
Until his friend showed up at their door
Carrying his child, killing their love.

She contemplated ways to move past this indiscretion
Forgive him now, hope to forget in time
But her anger, like his unborn child,
Grew until it could no longer be held inside.