The thing that attracts you to me
Is the thing you want to ****.
You are like a little boy mesmerized by a firefly -
And then snuffs out its light.

She was an acoustic version of herself,
Stripped down,
Strummed by life's callous fingers.

Sweet relief is akin to
Being engulfed
In the lingering embrace
Of someone you adore.

Loneliness - it gnaws at you,
Leaving a hole resembling a deep well.
The dark emptiness congeals
And sharpens into a fierce pang.

What song will I play today?
A cacophonous anthem of anger?
A slow, winding sonnet of sadness?
A buoyant hymn of happiness?
A dulcet chant of calm?
What song will I play today?
It all depends on which button you press.

Regret is a sharp punch in the gut.
You gasp for air, looking for a salve for the pain.
You wish for a rewind or undo button.
You rationalize, apologize, tell soothing lies
To yourself until you realize
And accept that there is only now.
There is no time machine.
There is only now.