bruised purple ego and
two colourful branches;
i don’t feel you anymore
as i stare into the stormy night.
i hear the hole and it greets me,
where dreams of you were
snowflake pedestals for love.
they melt faster than me
crossing of threads, golden
but not as symmetrical as i
once hoped a heart would be.

i don’t feel you anymore,
and it’s scary to my ears.
they trapped your memory,
and yet it’s slightly parched.
the fading of soul from,
the corners of each photograph,
i still see what i wanted
but it’s not as shiny.
still restless calculating;
the search doesn’t stop,
for a plug on my oil spill
of partnership insecurity.
blue colored but not
as brightly hued as
the brain wants to keep.

tie the knot on my finger
to remind me of the past;
i’m no longer content.
i’ve lost, but not to you.
i still think i’ll hang up
my cracking, burnt armour,
and sip a cup of the most
elegant, curing peace.
one that you would have

never bestowed upon me.
i hope it tastes like forever,
and nothing like the sweetness
of your prolonged attention.

Photo: Andy Reid on