PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

do you miss her?

that love,

young,

waiting to be tainted,

and tainted first by you.



i can't be your perfect bloom.

i can't be your untrodden garden.



i have been seeded and watered and pruned and harvested

and composted and burned

by strange groundskeepers who lived for the passing.



i am not her -



and who are you?

whose chrysalis heart was already pried open

when i found you,

your wet and trembling wings already dried by another sun.



here am i, second and third and fourth time around blossom,

ground into the earth many seasons ago,

and you, pathetic, tattered moth,

used up,

secondhand.

you expect me to give the sweetest nectar,

i expect you to drink of me alone.



already, we must forfeit what we crave most.

this "only and forever" nonsense ended long ago, when i gave me

and you gave you away,

to broken promises,

to the first forevers

that were never meant to last.