the new sincerity

God, I write about heartbreak a lot. I thought I had experienced it, maybe I really had, on some lesser level. Maybe my heart before had only been bruised, but today, it is broken. All of the poetry I’ve written, all of the sincere love poems, written in vain. I have been rejected, fiercely, by the only man I’ve ever loved completely as he is. And the worst bit? All of my friends and family telling me we’ll probably end up back together. No, we won’t. He’s told himself to love me is too difficult. So here I am, and I thought I’d write a poem. I expect I’ll write a lot. I don’t think they’ll be any good. This poem doesn’t have a title, I wrote it tonight. It’s mixed metaphors and abstraction, it’s fucking awful. 

 

i didn’t have to watch you walk away
That’s not how we’re doing this, it’s 

A very modern approach; our love,
two seas of bliss caught stuck

behind a dam. a little click. a pop,
my book’s back pages bent. the

endless burn of early morning
it is not all okay, you have told me.

why am i so changed? how best
to cradle the heart, alone – how

to know myself anymore? what
is left, are you the cork bobbing in

any number of my wine bottles
i simply sold myself on the idea of you.

life, today and onwards, it seems
will squeeze me blue. 

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