We just met but I enjoyed your company
You were with child and you seemed just a little wild

We spoke only a few times, but I enjoyed those times
You seemed happy and ecstatic; I wonder if it was just automatic

That you wanted to exit never occurred to me, I guess you wanted to be set free
It’s hard to see any light when you’ve made a mistake; you couldn’t wait for daybreak

Was the pain too much to bear, couldn’t you find someone who cared?
Did you suffer in the last moments, did regret this too?

Now you’re gone and your child is too, what if you had it to redo?
Would you return and live the life you were meant to have?

Would our conversations grow old together, would we be strong against the weather?
Would your glowing countenance be true, your precious moments not just a few?

I wonder about the life your child would have had,
Would your child be like you, would she share your world view?

For a memory of the old times, you now live in these rhymes.

“When” anger runs through me like a wildfire.

I have these Twisted thoughts come into my mind making me wonder if I'm rotten to the Core.

“Because” suddenly I'm not the nice girl from next door.

I'm a monster in a cage and that cage is called my skin and I'm itching to get out and to play with your mind as Revenge. Poem by Shelby Kathleen Nightingale

You and your last love had a falling out.

Cue the music; cue the reprise of your
affection after endless scenes of off-key
orchestra, after months of wondering if I
had imagined the intimacy of those
moments.

A milky night, fog like cream with sugary
stars, and the smell the wind carries, earthy
and rough, setting the whole feeling askew.
You don't love me. I know that. You're just
lonely.

You like the closeness, like to trace the lines
of my face, the angle of my jaw, like children
connect the dots on paper, thick lead bared
down too hard, next to their coloring books
and crosswords, an activity they abandon soon
enough. You know how children can be: fickle.

I can't keep doing this. I can't keep doing this
with you, but I will. And you know. You know
I'll take anything I can get. I'll be the doormat
out front if I have to. I'll be the rooftop, on the
off chance you feel like looking at the stars again.

Come sit next to me. I want to watch the
minutes move. I want to know what sews the days
together, what makes the seconds tick. It's noble
enough, I suppose. Not everything is shrouded in
intentions, but most things are. You would know.

I should resent you for it, but I don't.
I'm too busy loving you.