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Danger! UneXploded Bomb
 

Just being near her was enough, she didn't love me,

Her heart was too busy hating men; but I loved her,

And right now she needed someone close to help

Heal the wounds, make her smile.

 

She had a face on her like thunder, a real blonde,

Gloves on, looking for a fight, I almost walked away

But something made me stay, and so back I came

To the same bar, same table, same time, next night,

And every night after that. Yes, I fell in love with her,

Hard not to, I could see she didn't want me so no

Point my pushing it; but she did need a friend, one

Who'd look out for her no matter what.

 

Called in the bar for a quiet drink, bad call, the

Bar was full and noisy, nowhere to sit save one

Empty chair at a table occupied by seething anger,

Idly swilling the bottom of her glass. A bad sign

Spinning the dregs of a drink, fighting talk in some

Quarters. With so little choice and more folk spilling

Into the bar I went over and asked if I could join her?

'If you must,' came the terse reply as the sad remains

Of a weary Bud played tide around in the bottom of

Her glass.

 

The glass antics were getting a bit too lively, and so

A short journey to the bar, a push through a milling

Crowd and Shazam, a cold Budweiser in an ice cold

Glass seemed to be exactly the right thing for the

Occasion, and indeed it was, for she eagerly took the

Glass from me and raising it to her forehead brought

Cool and soothing relief to the pain and misfortune

Within. I've been collecting material for a novel and

Here was real life in the raw. On the way back from

The bar the outline of a safety pin through cotton

Caught my eye, broken bra strap, funds low, times

Hard.
 

She sulked a lot in the first few days, head in her

Hands, defiant stare in her eyes, like a woman ready

To explode. Danger UXB as she referred to herself,

Told me she was bad and and I should leave her

Alone, but that kind of talk just made me mad,

And even more determined to stick around.

 

Been with her for a good while now, nearly a year,

She's helping me write my book, a thriller about

Good cheques, dud cheques and drugs. Hard to

Believe the things she's seen, yet here she is on

The other side and once in a while she risks a

Smile, tugs my sleeve so I don't miss it. The anger

And the thunder have gone too, just an act she put

On to protect herself, doesn't need either any more.

 

Still doesn't love me, but we're getting closer all the

Time. I know how much she needs me, the turmoil

Of the past left her weak and vulnerable and without

Seeming to do very much at all, I pointed her in the

Direction of the tracks and under her own steam her

Pretty wheels started turning again. All I gave her was

Confidence - nothing more. We're going to dinner

Tonight, she tells me she has something special to

Share - can't wait to hear what it is.
 

© Joseph G Dawson