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Twenty-Eight Days



A degree of distance

has at last been achieved.

The days are no longer spent

spiraling madly

out of control.

The nights are relaxed

and unassuming.

I was obsessed with you,

wracked with

unreasonable hungers,

psychotic jealousies.

You had prevailed against

everything that

I held dear;


and now I am weary from the

conflict.

I move in diminished company

these days,

an anachronism pathetic in scope,

the personification of

potential wasted.


I owe many grievous injuries

due to your malignant heart,

and these are but a few.


It is so often true that we do not

love because,

but rather despite;

my heart has been left wounded,

and I forgave every blow.


I will address you no longer,

and cast a mark against your name

in the poem of life.

Your call is now anathema to me,

your singing words full of

praise and lies.

Just another clawing phantom

in the night,

murderous and ignorant,

compelled to

destroy

everything in its path.

really really great imho J

You had prevailed against

everything that

I held dear

I love this one and the following
the personification of

potential wasted

and this

It is so often true that we do not

love because,

but rather despite

and and and


take care

Arno