My silent hands brim over,
For all the tears captured
Many more topple without mention.
Seven dishes left to freeze
In the wake of your uproarious laughter.
An evening planned in detail,
A delusion governed by poor choices.
I scramble to my feet
Chair scraping the floor.
A nameless bird pecks,
At my soul’s shuttered windows.
Never again shall I succumb to thee.
I’ll return to the eaves from which I came,
To the grey lady and her impeccable waste.
In a shack I’ll spend my days,
A menagerie of hearts gone astray.
How did I ever manage to love you?
All those dirty looks
And impassive sneers.
I should have known.
I knew but chose not to.
Destiny, it seems, cannot be
Shaken and a man can be worth
Only as much as he, himself, determines.
Meeting with the unemployment office today!