Poetry

The Road Less Taken.

As he saw his

Hometown

Galloping away,

Far in the distance,

Far away,

He stared at the trees,

And the creek gray,

Bidding him farewell,

And journey safe,

He wondered if

He would ever come

Back to this time

Again.

He was leaving his

Life behind, and was

Walking a path

Rarely trodden.

He was taking the

Road less taken.

-a-

Poetry

Never again.

There’s something

Like a broken glass

Inside of my chest

Which hurts when

I move a certain way.

It’s a thousand

Little pieces with

Edges jagged

And ends sharp.

They have embedded

Themselves in the

Weak, red muscle

As if as a revenge,

And they remind me

Not to trust the

Dumb mass ever again.

Never again.

-a-

Poetry

Lies, lies, lies.

And, after I fell down

The 4 steps to the

Landing, and they

Asked me if I was

In one piece, I

Had to lie.

I couldn’t tell them

I hadn’t been whole

In a long while.

That’s not what they

Had asked.

That’s not what they

Had wanted to know.

-a-

Poetry

Big Reveals and Narcissistic assholes.

And when the

Horn of insults

Honked in her

Earbud choked

Ears, and the rays of

Disappointments

Seeped past the

Expensive rose-tinted

Glasses, she could see

Him for what he was:

A narcissistic asshole

Wrapped in the gold

Trimmed wrapping

Paper; pretty, but

Useless once

The gift is opened

And the present is

Revealed.

-a-

Poetry

One Last Time.

Crying with

Her head

Tucked

Between

The knees

3 months

After he

Violently

Left,

She realised she

Was crying for

The parts

Of her

She had lost

In the process

Of loving him.

She realised she

Was crying for

The last

Time.

-a-

Poetry

Million Questions.

Million questions

She had wanted

To ask him

When he had decided

He couldn’t do “it”

Anymore.

She only asked a

Couple.

What about the

Parts of me

You had borrowed

Because you had

Wanted to feel

Whole for a while?

What about me being

Complete?

Will you ever return them?

-a-