He Didn't forget.

I wake each day to his rotten breath
of excessive liquor and cigarette smoke
as i pick myself up to composure
and anger mingled with disgust chokes me
as I recall a time when things weren't so.
By day he's got a job quite alright
and a hobby for the night,
if its not the booze or the smoke
then it's my silent cries for the moment
to have never happened at all.

This revolting pile of shit
was once a prince and then my king
but somehow I lost his highness
to the stupidity and disgust of irresponsibility.
It's a question - Why do I stay
and outside the window lies my freedom
but it's hard to explain to you all
that after it all,
he hasn't forgotten to tell me every night
that he LOVES me very, very much.

{Fiction}