Slinking back home
crawling into my bed
curled tight, finally alone.
Our eyes are red
as you scream
even though I tried to not make this a scene
I just wanted to be held
you wanted to be listened to
Our love, once of a seamless weld
pristine sculpture of the perfectly woo’d
in an instant, felled.
It’s been a month since our implosion.
I’ve a new paramour
and you’ve told Cupid, “Nevermore”.
I remember, that morning in May
when we were first together
Endless messages, speaking every day
thinking it would be forever
that our souls would be pressed in lavish ballet.
At night I dream of you
Dabbing on your greasepaint with a cloud-white sponge.
Lighting your oval face with a hasty grunge.
Even just once, I wish
I could have held that pyramidal cloud
sweeping paint across your nose with a swish.
You are always in my heart
Countless days you made me smile.
Please, why must me part?
Little bear, return to me
Why can’t things be like they used to be?
When I was young and wild,
And you loved me like a darling child.
Now you won’t even look at me
Bitter as rotted black tea.
I reach out, and you ignore
Splattering my heart, animal gore.
Little bear, you taught me what love felt like.
That heat that burns like a pig iron spike
in the brain.
Come back to me, dearest friend-don’t let this line be cut.
Mine is the hand eternally outstretched–but
I fear yours is the hand that will never be held.
(You’re so cold without our love)