I was comfortable in my solitude.

Being alone was something I had grown familiar with

but then


There was something about you that made me want to leave behind all the hurt

all the lies they told me

spelled out between the lines of love notes and fancy dinners

Suddenly I hated being alone

Because being by myself meant being far from you

And long days that dragged on and on 

were shortened by the thought of perhaps seeing your face

or hearing that melodic voice


I pushed my demons aside to make room in my heart for you

Gave you my time

Stayed awake to catch even one more minute of yours 


I began to wonder if I could love again

But a fairy tale exists only in the likes of children's books

and true to what I've always known

You were quick to give me up, push me away

Made me doubt myself 

Not good enough

Never attentive


I will push this from my mind and file it away as a cautionary tale,

And although my stomach is sick tonight, 

I thank you.

You reminded me that precious solitude is worth far more than any man.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

I'm not a fan of this piece. I wrote it in an emotion induced frenzy after dealing with a bi-polar man. It ended sourly before it was given permission to begin, and this word vomit ensued. That's the best way to deal with life- cross lines on paper, blink back tears, and give them hell with your pen. 

palewingedpoetess's picture

I agree

but pain is a tool, one of many in your poet's tool box. You used it so I find no fault with it. It is one of many facets of the umpteen reflections you see in your life. No true emotion is ever wasted. You took something ugly and with words and angling all your own released it into the world as just what you said a cautionary tale that others less in tune with their own inner selves will read, relish and we can only hope, learn from. I tip my pen to you. Be not a fan of this certainly, it is your right but know that even from your personally disfavored poems others can gleam so much the more. Let that spur you to further post. Sincerely, M.