Rachel
Rachel
Jan 16      Jan 17

My feelings are unsure, these I haven't felt before
My heart tears into two
People drawn apart
That too familiar feeling of being alone in the dark
As I think to myself, what have I done
With the quickness of the hand,
I take what I still love
And I run
I run away from what this means
Together forever?
No.

I used to love me
I used to love us.
Married for all the wrong reasons
Who do we blame?
No happy future here
Just selfishness and shame
We used to be amazing
We used to be in love.
Now I have torn feelings, after each and every hug.

The tear no one sees
The ache no one feels.
Living in a lie,
Is this even real?
I've mixed so many emotions
Just trying to find love.
I lost myself somewhere
Somewhere I never wanted to go

Ashli McKee
Dec 23, 2009

I’m not going to lie
There is a part
It makes me sad
Tares me apart
I know after all
You still care
We went through so much
Has to be something there
Please don’t leave
Not just yet
A little longer
Then I’ll face regret
Thank you for everything
The good and the bad
I’ll get up and move on
It’s just a little sad
Enough time has passed
I don’t think so much
Then I remember the feeling
Of your soft touch
I am not ready for you
Out of my life just yet
I constantly think of that day
When we first met
I’ll keep it inside
And you will never know
Just know one day
You used to make me glow
Goodbye Josh
I’m saying that for good
To be completely honest
I never thought I could
Good luck to you
I hope everything turns out well
I’ll walk away now
Farewell

No Date
Ashli Jane

The silence was the ex-husband
Francisco DH
Francisco DH
Nov 19, 2013

There was something about the silence
Something about the “Our little secret”, “Don’t tell anybody” silence
That kept intruding into our conversations
On Friday afternoons

The silence was the ex-boyfriend
Who sucked his “I love you’s” and “Baby”s
Right from his lips.

The silence was the ex-husband
Who demanded him to pay for everything
With him avoiding eye contact as acceptable payment.

The silence was the ex-lover
Who stole the romance
As it slowly got of his bed taking with it his words and love.

The silence was the reason I stopped talking to him.

Satifying your ex-husband lust.
jeffrey conyers
jeffrey conyers
Mar 4, 2013

You have someone interested in you.
But you're still creeping with him.
That divorce man of yours and the father of your kids.

No reasons you give seems legit.
And you try to offer them to justify your action.
And the only one happy is the divorce man.

You have someone trying to connect to you.
And he even commented, you're getting played for a fool.
Just being used for a physical need tool.
Satifying your ex-husband lust.

But the new man doesn't blame him.
As much as he level the error of judgment upon you.
He does inquire, what will happen when he quit you?
And another interest his heart.

Since you agreed to be used.
Don't later try to say he took advantage of you.
For that wouldn't be true.

Many men get blame for the stupidity of a few.
But in this case, it's you.

Infamous one
Infamous one
Apr 1, 2013

My aunt gave me crap about forgiveness but she could only speak up drunk get out of here your wasting my time. My other aunt is a health freak years to late after her husband just because he's dead you don't have to go out of your way to our live him.
My aunt I'd divorced with a bf but she her ex husband around she is everything she said she wouldn't be. I don't have close uncles they bail or divorce my aunts but I don't blame them got leaving. Just because you talk loud doesn't mean your right.
I have a screwed up family on both sides of my decomposing family tree even though I see most of the jerks like weeds bothering the garden ruining the beauty

22, Ex-husband, Sylvia.
Vi A
Vi A
Apr 28, 2013      Apr 28, 2013

1st shot, I'll forget you tonight.
2nd shot, I should date Noah on the weekend.
3rd shot, Been 6 years since we tied knots
4th shot, This is for you and your lies.
5th shot, For the stripper with red panties
6th shot, Go to hell Steve.
7th shot, Why Steve?
8th shot, Steve ..
9th shot, I'll call Steve.
10th shot, Please come home. I miss you.
11th shot, One more Blue Margarita
12th shot, I'm not drunk.
13th shot, Hello Ben! Officially divorced!
14th shot, I know. His lose. Thank you.
15th shot, Blah.. Blah.. Blah..
16, 17, 18, 19, 20, How many shots?
Probably 21, drunk enough to slept with my husband's brother.
22, Ex-husband, Sylvia.

Yeah I'm a resenting has been and ex-husband,
David Beltran
David Beltran
Feb 5, 2012

For an hour on my drive to school at night,
When the music and headlights come on,
For that hour I'm a rock star.
If you stop and stare even better,
and I'd congratulate you because you are my audience.
I'm the drummer, singer, bassist, piano player and guitarist,
Hell I'm even the guy playing with lights back stage.

But as soon as I park and get out of my car,
I'm not a singer, I'm not a musician and
I'm certainly tone deaf.
Yeah I'm a resenting has been and ex-husband,
I don't eat, sleep or fuck but writing is what keeps me sober these days.
Singing is what keeps my mind off the time,
and music what keeps me off the lines.

I used to give out ratings.
Now I keep the words to myself
and if my opinion is asked of me,
I just give them the simple half.
Let them figure out what's missing,
the way I found out what I was needing.

I may not make a mill next year,
or be able to pay the bills this month.
But I will be recognized for the things that are
put on billboards and on your bedroom walls.
I will be known for the message you wear everyday,
and for giving a face to the girl that sings in the dark on stage
and plays in your car all day.

But for just this hour I'm just a simple rock star.

Would like to receive feedback and critique, thank you.
Christine Chirdon
Christine Chirdon
May 20, 2013

I looked at the clock
ticking, resolute,
suspended pleasantly over the couch's window

  3.......
       2..........
            1..............
Right on cue, the phone rings.m
I set down my magazine, crinkling back the corner of a page boasting "Dog Gone Good Mac n' Cheese"
and answer the phone
on the third ring.

My son, Harvey, it isn't like he's
a challenged boy
or a special gift
To be honest, sometimes he outwits even me
Things just always seem to....

Well, take what happened to Richard
My ex husband
Harvey would just shoot him
side ways glances
and point
point for hours
Some nights, Richard would just wake up
screaming
But Harvey was just a baby, not even two years old, I cannot fathom what was so frightening about a prefect little baby
Still

One day I come home
and Richard has decided to see how much
bathtub Kool Aid he could make
with just a razor and some hot water
And Harvey!
Sweet little Harvey!
Must have accidentally locked himself in
with that mad man.
That poor, poor...

Well, anyway, after that, Richard left.
Now it is just
Harvey
and
Me

can call conjugal visits to your ex-husband people.)
John Mahoney
John Mahoney
Jan 12, 2012

Dear Lesley,
I'm sorry to have to do this through a letter, but
last time your crying just humiliated
the other couples in your group session.
Although, this might save embarrassment,
and make me look better, now that we are
both sleeping with other people. (If you
can call conjugal visits to your ex-husband people.)
This letter may well be the last memory
you will have of me, if your social worker
lets you keep it as a memento anyway.

I am leaving, and I won't be looking back either.
I am sure you won't be surprised or terribly upset.
It is completely your fault, no doubt about it!
Mainly, it is your long history with lying problems,
even more than your alcoholism, that keeps me
from being even remotely interested in continuing
this relationship with you. (I told you I forgave
you for sleeping with your boss, but I guess I
never really did.)

You would be so much better off finding someone
that can accept the emotional baggage that
you carry around, the ones with the orange tags.
Maybe your analyst can explain that to you better
than I can. I must say, I will miss some of the exciting
times we had together. Like when you got so drunk
and flirted with my father at our family Christmas
dinner. My mom has still not gotten the red wine stain
out of the tablecloth where you puked on it.

I'm glad this is finally done and we can go our
separate ways. I think you will find someone else
with whom to have an unhealthy relationship based
on physical attraction and a passion for strip-club bars.
Hopefully, this will happen incredibly far away.

Good riddance, and Happy New Year.

PS Maybe you should just go back to being a lesbian.
PPS I have no idea where you parked your car.

She'd talk of her ex-husband.
JJ Hutton
JJ Hutton
May 4, 2012

Harvey sees the sun for the first time
without history--
the worn leather, unshined shoes in closet,
the ex-girls off the telephone--
the beams blow kisses, taunt, and beckon.

Harvey folds a paper with half a sentence
and puts it in his pocket--
"I'm too callused to love, too empty to be, a void..."
he knows the end but doesn't write it.

Harvey dreams of calm waters,
salt, sundresses, and eager toenails hammered into sand.
A waitress's reflection in the coffee shop glass shakes Harvey from trance.

"Another cup?" she asks with a crowbar forehead.
Harvey stares at her wrinkles, prying for exposition--
while her voice melts over innocent questions.

Harvey thinks about taking her home.
She'd talk of her ex-husband.
They didn't have kids, but she wanted them.
Harvey couldn't give her kids,
but he could give her him--
a favor.
She wouldn't die alone.

"Did you hear me? Coffee?"
He'd make her feel tall.
She'd find new, fast-talking, book-n-tabloid-munching friends.
Harvey would nod and "oooh" and "ahhh".
Harvey would itch for wrecking ball.

The waitress pours the cup despite his silence.
"If you need anything, let me know."
Harvey nods.
The coffee shop contains the hustle of a mad race track.
Elderlies at the bar, youngsters on the tile floor,
moms and dads hoping to choke with each bite of doughnut.

Harvey doesn't pay much attention to the other patrons.
They are reds, yellows, blues, and noise to him.
He unfolds the piece of a paper and writes,
"I'm too callused to love, too empty to be,
a void in search of a void to sink and share
the blackness."

He leaves a tip on the table.
He pays the cashier.
He leaves the colors and the noise.
He crumples the paper, and gives
it to the wind outside.

 
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment