A name is all that is left of you to me.
As my world widens,
you shrink
into a word I never speak;
a number I never call.
Our story aborted
(perhaps
no ending fits?),
non-ending brings
more
confusion than
sadness;
the bitch in me
gladdens
to think of the phone
that I know
will not ring.
Facebook tells me of your doings now.
Your secret changed us anyway.
The acid tongue
that was loved became cruel;
harsh wit became
judge.
You forgot,
I think,
that I do not worship false prophets.
A simple truth:
‘A house divided cannot stand’; and so,
I cut you loose,
No comments:
Post a Comment