He has affairs, I

don't cry anymore, my eyes --


spark brighter than flint.

Here it is,
The moment
Where you know
That your soul-mate
............................
Is absolutely full
Of it


Daily routine disappointment
You refuse to see the point
And your sick of me saying
That These crazy,
"captain save a **" ways are
impeding our dreams


How the **** cant you see
past it?
You got life on fast-forward
Ignore anything important
Where you at young warrior?


I need you to reach the door,
Along with
fauna and flora
"Alohomora"

Being cheated on hurts. So. Bad. 


The way I loved before, I know I’ll never be able to get back to that point ever again.

My sense of self worth has gone down, I now question my trust in my own intuition, and my hurt feels like a pain I’ve never felt before.


“I’m so glad I never have to worry about him.” 


Something I used to always tell my mom and friends.

I always thought his love for me would overpower his desire for other women. I was so wrong. 


I felt stupid. I felt played. 


I’d had opportunities to do him as ***** (if not dirtier) than he did me. I didn’t partake in those opportunities because I felt like our love was so pure and I didn’t want to be the one to ruin something so beautiful.

I was wrong. 
I felt embarrassed. I felt ashamed. 


While I was sick, I thought he was being true to me. I fantasized about having his kids upon healing. I thought our love grew stronger because he was there for me at my lowest.

I was wrong.


Instead, he was spending time and money - something we both felt we had such little of- on someone else.

I feel hurt. I feel unsafe. 


I don’t trust the same way I used to. I don’t look at him the same way I used to. I don’t have “forever” hopes like I used to.


Hopefully someday I’ll heal.

But for now, my heart hurts.

I’ll never be the same.

I found him in the dim-lighting of a meadow.
His skin, his breath, his kisses
were dreams and berries to me.
Poisonous and plucked from nature's own *****,
I crushed him between my teeth,
felt his sugary rush in my mouth,
and spat him out for fear that his essence was dangerous.
Oh, poisonous berries, strip me of life,
place me in the deepest slumber,
so that I may continue to dream of this infidelity forever.

why you did it
still escapes me
but nothing else matters
now

all that savings
for better lives,
vows and memories
don’t make it any
easier

some kind of relief
or reassurance
would be great,
but i know there’s
nothing you could say
or do to fully
convince me

i hope It has
my nose or eyes,
but surely It has
your voice

… guess we’ll see

sometimes she does not recognise herself
she is not the same person from five years ago
back then, things like innocence were real
infedility was something other women practiced frequenty
other women
disloyal women
not her though

she feels tainted, stained
irrevocably ashamed
marked with a poisionous cheater's kiss
she wants to go back to wedded bliss
she is desperately looking for some way to fix it
to find some sort of reprieve

she stares into the ***** mirror
hearing the whisper of her old friend, Fear
telling her of the art of sabotage
an art she wishes she'd never mastered
what can I say?
vows were made to be obeyed
when she broke those sacred promises
her soul shattered just the same
so when she looks into that mirror
her reflection is a stranger
she wants to be anyone else
not this unfaithful mess of a shell
so she smashes that glass into tiny shards
it's time to move on
time to make a new start

~
There's trouble in Alphaville:

Caution in the taxi, "I am on a journey to the end of the night."

Remember to silence love when sneaking Sally thru the alley.

There's always one too many wives on the same wavelength.

Seeing is believing in the cold ultraviolet light of a long, warm lens.

And naturally "How to Teach Your Wife to Be a Widow" is all checked out at the local library.
~