reading your poems

this website provides a lovely service
giving the unspoken a megaphone
(even though it's set to one)

many of you are young
thoughts about lost love
about who's who to you

it doesn't get easier, but
at least you can write here
feel safe, loved, famous

like the lust you lost
these pages will fade
a burning candle in a sea
of misplaced memories

so here you are
reading my poem
didn't have to
but did

Three small chunks of my soul
Ripped right out of my chest
          Every weekend

       The same **** thing
The hugs, tears and kisses goodbye
               With them
The screaming, mistrust and hateful words
               With him

The pain seems neverending
And never getting any better
       All the bridges burned
   Without
          a single
                look
                      back­

But regret can build and build
When you realize some bridges
             Can't be rebuilt

And yet
         I can't regret him
Or the pain he dealt to me
    Cause he helped to create
Those three small pieces of my soul

          And they may be small
      But put together
   They create my life as a whole

    Every Weekend
The same **** thing
        And it hurts
   Finally having that feeling
Like you're actually whole
         Then all three pieces
             Get
            RIPPED
       Right out of my soul


And until next weekend
**I cannot feel whole

Don't chase
After happiness;
Wait,
And it will
Catch up.