Sep 2021
Happy Anniversary
My sorrow cannot bear
Your new adopted tone
Your hollow smiling stare
I cringe at the thought
The thought that kills my sleep
This thing that you have wrought
How he goes in so deep
His character exalt!
His back muscles so rare
It never was your fault
How could you help but stare?
Poseidon in his glory
A tool for you to use
I hope you get your thrills
Not more damage and abuse
You can drive him toward your will
Not like your former “love”
Whose callousness you loathed
Like the late “God above”
So congrats for eluding
The trap you’d been in
Twenty two years is a long time
To keep this crazy spin
Away you go; you win.
My sorrow cannot bear
Your new adopted tone
Your hollow smiling stare
I cringe at the thought
The thought that kills my sleep
This thing that you have wrought
How he goes in so deep
His character exalt!
His back muscles so rare
It never was your fault
How could you help but stare?
Poseidon in his glory
A tool for you to use
I hope you get your thrills
Not more damage and abuse
You can drive him toward your will
Not like your former “love”
Whose callousness you loathed
Like the late “God above”
So congrats for eluding
The trap you’d been in
Twenty two years is a long time
To keep this crazy spin
Away you go; you win.
Happy 22nd (and final) anniversary to Diane Jean
I am grieving for the death of who you were.
My mourning comes in waves
[WHY ARE YOU STILL STUCK, JIM? IT’S BEEN 6 WEEKS SINCE YOU FOUND OUT! YOU NEED TO MOVE ON.]
The woman I knew wouldn’t have said something so belittling of my feelings, so casually cruel. That woman has died. That facade that you presented for years and years and years… has evaporated. The thing that is left in her place is cold, unrecognizable, off-putting, sick. I am glad truth is coming to light even if it upsets my stomach… I am glad for myself - that it makes it easier to walk away. But there’s a part that still grieves. A part that imagines the old you is still underneath this gross monstrous skin… and a part that fears that you’ll awake from this haze… the dark magic will be lifted… and you’ll fall apart. And it will be too late. It already is too late. I can do nothing to soothe or comfort… I can only move on, putting your memory to rest.
We had good times that I will never forget.
Au revoir
I am grieving for the death of who you were.
My mourning comes in waves
[WHY ARE YOU STILL STUCK, JIM? IT’S BEEN 6 WEEKS SINCE YOU FOUND OUT! YOU NEED TO MOVE ON.]
The woman I knew wouldn’t have said something so belittling of my feelings, so casually cruel. That woman has died. That facade that you presented for years and years and years… has evaporated. The thing that is left in her place is cold, unrecognizable, off-putting, sick. I am glad truth is coming to light even if it upsets my stomach… I am glad for myself - that it makes it easier to walk away. But there’s a part that still grieves. A part that imagines the old you is still underneath this gross monstrous skin… and a part that fears that you’ll awake from this haze… the dark magic will be lifted… and you’ll fall apart. And it will be too late. It already is too late. I can do nothing to soothe or comfort… I can only move on, putting your memory to rest.
We had good times that I will never forget.
Au revoir
