He lived a solitary existence
Surrounded by the ghosts of lovers
Remains in letters (lines for others)
Fine denials and fond betrayals
Another poem when all else fails
You’ll see this line again
Appearing somewhere near the end
Promises divine (you laugh)
Sentences and paragraphs
Autographs and epitaphs
He’s such a lovely boy (or was)
Could have sworn he was in love
Probably just lust (too bad)
An empty bed again (so sad)
Familiar tropes with velvet ropes
Therapy, so he may cope
Why? you ask lest we forget
His future’s governed by regrets
Favorite faults he keeps as pets
Mistakes repeated (days dissolved)
You’d think somehow that I’ve evolved
I’m better than before (not quite)
A word whore comes to mind (that’s right)
Blind guide for the blind (who knew)
Slanted by design (it’s true)
In someone else’s book (of course)
There’s no relenting, no remorse
The time doth surely fly
Eye for eye and tongue for tongue
You walk among the dead
A list of gravestones in your head
The years alone like stones that roll
Where nothing sticks to them
Rambling, here I am again
You know my style (you say)
He’s got the same disease, you see
A glitch inside his memory
Keeps heartbreak playing on repeat
Beginning lines are oh so sweet
I’ll resurrect this line as well
Further down the lines
You probably get an inking
That I’ve been in love before
Endemic, may describe the scene
The night is not my friend, I find
Seems there’s more things to write about
Once love comes to an end
Could be my warping history
So difficult to tell
A sad song’s easier to sell
But love songs have their place as well
Playing in the background
As a soundtrack to a lie (I guess)
And still, you wonder why (what’s best?)
My flow is interrupted
Something in my genes (you see)
My lineage indeed, corrupted
But that is neither here nor there
A thought to share, a branch to break
The happy times we grieve or fake
The peace of mind we never make
Poetic license that we take
So greedily we fawn…
For Dear John letters with the dawn
Same as Cheshire cats still grinning
How sweet love is in the beginning
I told you that before (so clever)
The opening lines go on forever
The first and second kiss
The breathless moments, touching souls
Lost embraces (love unfolds)
Taste of goodbye on the tongue
What’s done is done (and then?)
You dip into the flesh again
The muscle memory manifests
What’s best is best as you confess
In stories burned in books
The tattooed lies that you despise
A prize you covet, loss you cause
Pages bandaging like gauze
Festered and inflamed
So easy, writing, placing blame
Carefully displayed on dusty shelves
A fine array of different names
Sadly bleeding much the same
In inkwells, crimson red
Coagulating puddles
Drowning pools of love’s remains
Emotional, the words like stains
Broad deceptions at inception
Sitting at his desk again
His thoughts are black and white
No color-coated sunshine days
Worlds colliding (always night)
A testament to love’s lament
Haunting lines in rhyme
A typewriter keeping time
Songs of stark remembrances
Tones, and notes, and frequencies
Circumstance and consequences
Lyrics lost in lines of thought
Pain at thirty-three degrees
Vocalization, (harmonies)
He chose to dwell in this make-shift hell
Convinced that solace is so sweet
Silence is golden (right)
When choosing not to speak
Maybe yes and maybe not
Loneliness is just a crutch
Expression in a word he says
Weaving thoughts of love
Just enough to draw you in
Then the fear rears its head
The what-ifs all kick in
Tortured by his doubts
The same as bamboo under nails
Another poem when all else fails
I mentioned that before
A pie to pluck a plumb
Rewarded for his pseudo-thumb
It’s just a salad of your words
When all is said and done

TM DiSarro

©2024 TM DiSarro / MindScapes Publishing