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Poem

In knowing how my heart aches, I know not
Where to hide my sorrow. Etched, onto flesh
So numbed, by the cold break of tomorrow. 
My thoughts it would seem, merely cascading
Sullen faces; the infinite places
We had seen.
Afflicted by a love so fleeting - 
You left it biting at my being
In some callous bout of cruelty, unforeseen.
For sake no more than infidelity...
You did but everything
To forget me.
Yet you see it most in dramatists;
A trial of false feelings eloquent,
As if to belittle their own.
And still the latter more prevalent -
A trait I'd grown to love;
Be it the marrow, the mere dust
That forms my bones.
And yet I evermore despise -
I could hunt the breach, the distance
In those eyes
As they meet mine.
And all notion, upon notion, of retrieval
Will not help me seek the better 
Of your evils,
For you chose to make the bed
In which you lie.

And so my darling, promiscuous love,
My mind breeds only bitterness.
While that bloody, bludgeoned organ
In my chest beats memories
Vigorous.

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