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Jan Reest 17m
I have managed to walk
through the puddles
of diswant.
I have amassed—
great hatred of the known.
There is no mud on my heels.
I have been known.
Are you real?

Were you real?

You were the only bud

that flowered in my garden

of misery.

I longed for the season that

brought you into bloom.

My sweet perfection—

my agonizing suffering.

Why have you forsaken me?

Don’t you understand

I hurt you

so you could hurt me back?

Now I am alone again—

my life in perpetual limbo.

I find myself

grazing the edge of life

for a ****** that may never arrive.

I jump from bus to bus

seeking an empty seat,

where I sit and reminisce your absence,

from my heart in absentia.

Who will gape the spout in my aorta?

Who will stop the senseless bleeding?

Winter came—and your petals fell.

I weep and weep, watering a plant

that is long gone.

I miss what I never had.

I miss what I could have had.

Goodnight my sweet.

— The End —