The Unspoken Script

I saw him by the premium, checking his phone

the man who made my weekends a combat zone.

I had the whole speech filed away in my head

about the hours he stole and the lies that he spread.

I practiced the cadence while scrubbing the floor

until I was brave, until I was sure.

But the nozzle clicked shut with a plastic snap

and I stayed in my seat like a rat in a trap.

The digital numbers flickered green on the pump

while my heart gave a heavy, pathetic little thump.

I pulled out of the station and into the light

with my throat full of glass and a fist held too tight.