She was...
Catastrophic
Malady spread
By the words she spoke
A smile built
From nightmares and dread

She walked the earth
Deriving sustenance
From the suffering
Carrying roses
But only if they were black
Her presence enough
To cause heart attack

She was catastrophic
Her kiss was corrupt
Now I'm drowning in part
Of her cancerous wake
Suffocating slowly
As her innocent smile grows

you always were my muse
for good times
and for bad times
I always had you

I wrote poems filled with anger
others filled with lust
some with loving phrases
some with hateful verses

you were always my muse
when I was struggling
I had you to write about
everyday there was something new

maybe that was part
of our day to day battle
fighting for something
while fighting over nothing

fighting to feel anything
fighting about dumb things
up and down
back and forth

you always were my muse
and this poem proves
that without my consent
I guess you still are

Hello there,
I see you,
And,
I'm broken too...

I have just one question for you,
Do you think,
Two broken hearts,
Make one, too?

~Robert van Lingen