Balcony Standoff

Exhausted to the bone,

the stubborn reality stares audaciously

Winter night, well past mid night 

in a tiny balcony with abundance of light

but no plant really survives;

a home barely thrives.

Breeze threatens to freeze.

I sit across, staring into his eyes,

demanding harmony and answers.

None come; he stammers,

hides behind cigarette smoke.

I demand to light the fire.

My face too fogged by distant memory,

I utter, "Enough is enough."