The Afterwards

The afterwards of everything is wondering
Why tradeoffs must be made, and friendships lost,
And why the night turns silence into shadows
That touch the edge of passion turned to frost

The afterwards of everything is emptiness,
A strange reward for doing what is right:
The cold and quiet heart that’s ribbed with darkness,
The winner, who’s left sickened from

The fight

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

This Happy

I wish you were this happy all the time.
I know our days are coming to a close,
For I am not for you. I’m not the one
To bring to you this warmth, or sense of peace.
So we can part now, better in past tense,
Then ever in the present tense we were.

For comfortable and boring’s what we were;
A slowing down of interest and time
That led to moments clumsy, fraught, and tense:
A time when couples ought to settle close
Together in a panoply of peace,
And show the lucent ways two become one.

For there are many paths, and I was one.
Now spread into the air is all we were;
A maybe once that led to greater peace,
When that day comes when love takes over time:
When what had seemed so far, comes ever close,
And there’s no pretense – any kind of tense.

But here, the moment’s peaceful, far from tense:
Your heart is full of joy. The furry one
Who rests within your arms is warm and close.
The two of you seem suited, as you were
The moment that you saw, and froze in time
A mother-type of love, and child’s peace.

How strange to know, within this shade and peace —
To let go of my hope, let go the tense
And worried weight I’ve carried all this time.
For maybe, without you, I can be one
Not tied up in the things we weren’t, and were,
And bring these months together to a close.

This journey soon is drawing to a close,
The sun will set into a night of peace,
Officially beginning what we were:
An active love turned into passive tense.
Just know: for me, you could have been the one.
I thank you for your kindness, and the time.

To be so close, and yet to be so tense,
To see your peace, to know I’m not the one,
That all we were will soon be lost to time

Kitchen Breakaway

That morning, we awoke,
And I remember: runners on the beach,
And there was music, somewhere,
Through the open window,
As we munched our toast,
And drank our drinks in silence.

“What will you do?” I asked,
As though I hadn’t several times before,
And you said, “I arrive in Dallas
Around 6, I think, and then
It’s off to school. The program starts at 8.”

Twenty minutes later,
On the shell driveway,
We said a quite banal goodbye,
Me with my duffel bag,
And my old car was soon back on
The shoreline road, for 23 miles until,
I got back to the Interstate.

A breakup is like a knockout punch:
But this was more like
Us calling off the fight because
You had a better offer out-of-town,
And me understanding, because
It made sense for business.

Of all the mornings we’d spent in that kitchen
The one I remember best is me eating dry toast
And drinking a flat Dr Pepper
And wishing the runners on the beach

Had taken me with them

Flowers Cannot Fix It

You have this dream, that she’ll be there
At dinnertime tonight
And, if you make it perfect
Everything will be alright

But flowers cannot fix it
Cannot make this dream come true:
Don’t worry friend, she’ll smile again —
But it won’t be

With you