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I divorced the sky, once too heavy,
Each cloud a promise I couldn’t trust—
I watched it tear apart, not softly,
But with a thunderous, elegant thrust.
I unbuttoned the stars from my chest,
Left the moon dangling, bruised and cold,
And learned the art of quiet rage,
Sinking into the earth, finally bold.

I divorced the mirror, once my friend,
Told it, "You don’t know me anymore."
It cracked with a smile, as mirrors do,
Reflecting nothing, an empty floor.
I started walking without my own face,
Let my feet lead me, loose and wild,
Discovered the beauty in silence,
And in being untethered, beguiled.

I divorced myself, the oldest lover,
The one I thought I’d always need.
Turns out, I had been my own cage—
A lesson in wings, a thirst to bleed.
I found new skin, stitched together—
Pieces from old poems and new,
A patchwork of strength, sharp as glass,
Yet soft as the winds that now blew.

I divorced the past, with a wink and nod,
A toast to its farewell, a bittersweet cheer.
And in its place, something bloomed—
A garden of dreams that had always been near.
I don’t know if it’s love, or the sun, or the sky,
But I’ve found peace, in this strange, fresh air—
A life unmade, only to be made again,
As I wait, still standing, breathing, aware.

I divorced the rain, once my refuge,
Each drop a memory that had to go—
I let it fall, but refused to drown,
And learned to bloom in the afterglow.
I kissed the earth with a knowing smile,
No longer waiting for clouds to part,
I am the weather now, the storm and calm,
The lightning that strikes, the thunder in my heart.

I divorced the clock, its cruel counting,
Every second a thief in disguise—
I erased the hours, made them mine,
Painted my own days with broader skies.
Time is a river, it rushes, it bends,
But I’ve built a bridge that doesn’t break—
I no longer follow its ticking chains,
I move as the tide moves, for my own sake.

I divorced the chains, who claimed my soul,
Tight as whispers, silent and cruel—
I shattered their grip, cast them aside,
And danced with the winds, no longer the fool.
The earth beneath me, warm and true,
No longer shaped by what was expected—
I stood tall in the vast, open sky,
A canvas of freedom, untouched, unguarded.

Divorce, what a topic—
The unspoken joy of moving on,
Of finding the grace in unravelling,
Of the power in what we don’t yet know.
It’s not an end, but a new song,
A melody we’re still learning to sing—
The notes are sharp, the rhythm wild,
But they’re ours to play, in everything.
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