Deserving

You don't deserve this treatment.
That's what you said,
But these are your linens.
You made your bed.

Lay down...Go to sleep...
Loneliness is what you reap.

A bed once appealing
Inviting within
Now all too revealing
Rough to your skin.

Resentment Festering...
Harboring Hate...
These are the dishes
You prepare for your plate.

Sit down...Take a bite...
You choke on being right.

A place at your table
Just dessert prepared
Bad taste lingers
On lips that are scared.

You don't deserve this treatment?
I heard what you said.
But I didn't set your table.
I did not make your bed.