i only once

i only once
beside you once
inside you once
then grieved you once

and in a thrice
the tears of twice,
in days of ice
believed you once

for every once
i should have once
but lost you once
for i'm
a dunce

© Andriy Bezuglov | Dreamstime.com – Girl in red hood

She Thinks She’ll Probably Die Today

A little, anyways, inside.

She thinks she’ll probably die today,
A little, anyways, inside;
For he’ll go on his merry way
While she is left there to decide

How to dispose of love’s remains,
The home for which she’s grieving still:
She thinks she’ll probably cry today
And heaven knows
She will

Where Beauty Is

Where beauty is, and happy was,
Alas – the world has broken, too:
I did the best I could, but it
Was nowhere near enough for you

The good we do, the bad we say,
These all lay jumbled in a mess;
But still, there’s perfume in the air,
And bits of pain and loneliness,

And else that desperation bears.
We all know love’s negation —
Where beauty is, the silence reigns
For love’s forgone
Salvation

Heartbroken

The porpoise may become a shark,
If we don’t have our species right;
Because she loved him in the dark,
She thought she knew him in the light

She thought she knew; she felt so strong –
But love gone left is simply, wrong,
And hollow is the memory
That now is tinged with treachery


© Katarzyna Bialasiewicz | Dreamstime.com – Heartbroken woman

sometimes, still

sometimes, still, in windswept dreams
he finds her living in his head

watery and fiery
in vivid lust he long thought dead

she who loved only herself and
left him with her heart of stone

since he hates her now, he’s thinking
can’t she leave his dreams alone?

Ex’d Off

They are some pretty nice photos, to be fair.

she sent her ex some photos
of her down at the beach
so sad he couldn’t be there
and she was out of reach

the days are nice (she said) the sun
keeps shining without end;
the nights are not bad either
in this bed
with your
best friend

Exaggerated

What is exaggerated to one person, may mean the world to another

She went; the color left his world.
His small-town life of big-time dreams
Was squashed beneath the weight of grief,
How bad a breakup often seems

For there, surrounded by the gray,
He saw no light and heard no call:
Exaggerated though this sounds,
To him, it was not so at all

A trivial domestic mess?
No. Life is naught
When purposeless