the cold air
can be seen
every time
we take a breath

my tears sting
as they race
down my cheeks
to soak into my scarf

my hand has
gone numb
and no longer had
yours to hold

Christmas music plays
jingling merrily
as my heart
shatters to the beat.

the words
dancing off your lips
hanging in the air
as if they were mistletoe

”i’m sorry”
i watch as you turn your back
and walk away
for the last time.

I seem to know.
A lot of blow.
Partial information and bad facts…
Are the basis for my retracts.

Of all my Faux pas’s
and do overs..

I try to make it.

A time…

Of grass and clover…

Is there a tech God?
Do I give a heck, god?
I do not.
And I reply,
That the gods are not with me.
Therefore,
I choose my own.

Amen

We could’ve
we would’ve
we should’ve
— but we didn’t

(Dreamsleep: November, 2024)