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the more tragic details
need not be told
beauty needs
no breath
to out class the old
how does one let go
of a love
who remains under
another love's prior hold
the sick and chronic irony is
I stand, sit and or lay here
missing him
for months now have been
as he stands, sits and or lays
over there still missing her
while in the grip of my cold
wounded heart
I am here being the bigger man
and stepping aside
so back to her beautiful memory
his heart can freely go
martyrdom really sucks
I can't see what all the hoopla is about
I just hurt all the time
but I can't play second fiddle to
anyone
he can say otherwise but his actions
of late tell a different tale
I laugh (though hollowly) now when I
really think about it
I spend my time pining and writing
about and to only him
while he writes about God, his oh so
unforgettable her and umpteen friends
the same old story has come to pass
yet again
there must be something terribly wrong
with me
but I'm damned determined to break
this ugly trend
I should have caught on in the early
hours we began
when he pronounced so joyfully
he had found his so 'Beloved her'
come back to him again
I curtailed his tone
assuring him I was me
and no other alive nor dead
could I ever hope nor wish to be
that if a man was going to truly
love me it had to be for myself
poor little fool
I was doomed before anyone
even thought to notify help
I'm  a strong woman
my heart has been abused
by better before
and I have lived to see
another year
so stand up 'Weak Poetess'
no more pining and mooning
over him
turn a new leaf
leave him to the love he's
always preferred
I've learned my lesson
a live woman cannot pry
a live man out of the arms of
a dead girl
not if he doesn't wish to go
(sighs)
and so
I wish to bow out gracefully now
and in so being
I wish them both all the best
no harsh feelings
I realize now
we were just a lovely illusion
that I refused for such a long time
to really stop seeing...............
(March 12, 2011 941am)