in the covers of the night i still
miss you and the memories we
made like a reflex muscle
i still miss the times we
were happy and we were full of love.
but nostalgia is a liar
and now you're sleeping
with a guy you just met
to the songs we said were ours.
i am growing from this like
a beautiful blossoming tree.

I know
how you work
even as you keep it to yourself.
I have no fantasies
only a train of well thought
and pure reality.
Much unlike your feverish  
doubts, regarding my sincerity
I have never kept another
at my backdoor
to retrieve when you lost your ****
to numb the gap between Us
all the more,
I certainly lied about my ghosts
but haunted as I am
You are haunted
more.

And I  have nothing
more to claim
As a man in love
with you
but not even a You, at your best.
but, the You I found
failing to
love
herself.

Your self preservation
machine
is remarkable, regardless !
It tells you it's ok to make
me gone,
And fall back to an undone lover
to patch your groin from
a hollow patch.

However less good he may have  been
all is forgiven
but no forgiveness  for me....
you exalt him, after i have truly
bent my world
to serve you...
and your offspring.

even though
I chose to abandon
my nature for your sake
He lays claim
to your bed and plush thighs
because it suits you
to have him -
and now he
mounts you, now and again
because he's the devil
you know

even though
he vanished
when it really
counted.
like summer
snow

but i was there,

with my problems
that your
problems
had a problem
with.

and i don't have a car
for a ****.
just a heart
to trick.

They say that love is blind.
Evidently it also has no sense of smell.
And come to think of it,
Love has poor taste as well.