It means
nothing to
you these
40 year
dark
patches
under my
eyes,

where they
sit like broken
window panes
that used
to look
out on only
beautiful
things.

listening
to the conversations
of love
and truth
and forever
after,

when love was
the first
blossom of
spring and
not the ugly
thing I
turned it
out to be.

and you
left her
and you
left  the
child for
another man to
raise and
be called
father.


broken hearts
abandoned there
like yesterday's
trash,

and I and
they will
never
forgive you.

never forgive
the fact that
looks back
at me in
in the
mirror each
morning.

and you
can't paint
over these
moments
in your life

that now
burn like
little crosses
on my
chest.

when I am
so disappointed
even in
the air that
I breathe.

when I
feel so
much less
under God's
sight.

like a
beggar
who can
never find
enough to
eat.

like a
dog who
is left
without a
a juicy bone
to feast..