Heartbreak, the Bandit,

skulks in Trust's shadow

delivering blows

in parts.

He thrusts with a blade,

then returns

into the quivering dark

and turns away.


while lovelines recede, and pale,

you ask why

such a poison exists,

what meaning

betrayal holds,

and what you can do

to soften the blow of the scheming.

But soon,

a stark clarity settles

like moonlight on miles of graves,

luminescent with the cleaning

brought by the malady,

the ache,

the finality.

I am screaming.

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metaphorist's picture

I can't even imagine what you were going through when this was written. Sorry!!!!!!!