My Regret

In this place of reckoning

I have quietly been

Dreaming and repeating

The same misfortunes.

In love, it would seem

I am irrational

If only I could

Avoid the depressions I have made

The path worn bare

By my reckless trespasses

Caught in these repetitions

I am humbled by love

Worn down violently

Till I am scarred and numb


Knowing does not diminish

My desire

Does not bring me any closer to wisdom

I am the same impetuous girl

I have always been

Dissolving these sacred bridges

With too much ammunition

Love it seems

Does not measure against poetry

My lofty visions

Unmet by your synthetic mind

Cold-pressed in judgment

And inane rhetorical questions

I have been pulled apart

By horses running untamed

In every direction


You disappoint

In silence

For your heart’s eternal sighing

Is a breath apathy-laden

The shades of your nonchalance

Measured in quick half-smiles

Unaware, you are the worst sin


Always you hold me at arm’s length

This masquerade we dance

Has no rhythm, only painted concealment

You leave me

Drowning in emptiness

Bottomless, these pools of despair

If only an end

For I could sink no further


I never thought

I’d be happy to see you go

That your presence

Would become more unbearable

Than the spaces between

Met by you

I am always a little more deflated

You are an unbearable stain

Afternoons spent in derision

How did your beautiful face

Come to represent

Shame and bereavement?


I will never endure

The loneliness of your love

These dark hours

Heavy with apology

I regret

Every moment touched by you


A muse without reason

Twitching, impatient

I am committed to agitation

Shifting from one foot to the other

I rise, do nothing, return


Unsettled inside

I despair

Press dread close at heart

As if I number among the haunted

I watch the shadows

Lingering pools of diversion

I anticipate the wraith

Receive only decimated shadow


Fetid, in my own stale air

I drift manically

Shrug, grimace, shout


Caged by indecision

I contemplate sleep

Tossing, turning

Uncomfortable in my own skin

I contemplate food

I am not hungry

Starving for movement

For freedom

The great expanse

Of fields caught in the mercurial season of Spring

Unseasonably cold here

Wet, I strain at my desk

Trying to rearrange my thought patterns

To press ink to paper

Transfer the muse but he is equally distracted

I think he’s flirting with my imagination

Deliberately firing me up

For no reason in particular


I commit to rebellion

Wrestling with him

He’s so damn selfish

Flaunting my words wantonly

Directed only my whim

Cheap slut

All his thrills from exposure

From the brutal fornication of thought

He’s an existential tease


(Nothing brilliant but this is how I feel FRUSTRATED)



Cynical, Reclusive

Disparaging, Vacillating, Renouncing

Embittered with society



(I am hoping to write a longer poem today but I feel a bit at odds with my computer, just don’t feel like sitting down basically)