Adrian Borda

Was it a lust for pomegranates

That spirited you away?

Had I been forbidden

Would I now be in possession

Of that evasive fetish, love?

Can we ever own

What we cannot forgive?

Tenderness is pain

So I stand aloof as you pass

Into the arms of a darker man


You left without a presaging aura

Passion and denial do not coincide

We grow only so much

As our respective cocoons accede

And I have become so very small

The void deeper now than my content

I know why you left

I know why I let you

And I know, even though it kills me,

That I’d do it again


I am insular you are free

My limited view of heaven

Could never hold you intact

While you’re with him

Never think of me

I’ve spent my whole life

In games of comparison

Think of me only,

When empty


A fictional poem about a man with deep/paralyzing insecurities. I am listening to some ultra sad love songs. I have writer’s block which I’ve tried to fight with chocolate and sad music not sure that I succeeded. I also wrote a poem for Curious Flowers┬ácalled Moirai