Fit to Kill

He left her waiting on the beach
The foaming tide just out of reach
It is here she realized
That he was not the man she prized

She still waited for his quick return
Developing a slight sunburn
She built castles in the sand
Too fragile to take a stand

She took a wade beneath the pier
Knowing it was very clear
That she had finally had her fill
And he was only fit to kill

She caught him in his ornate bath
Taught him her fury, and her wrath
Submerged his head down near the drain
Ebbing rage, and going sane

She was relieved of all his scorn
Felt, in fact, fully reborn
The catharsis was a vast relief
No regrets nor trace of grief.