tethers

break … my heart? you did not break my heart you COULD not break my heart I utilized all the “Yous” that came before constructing barriers that you, in your most formidably malodorous and vehemently vile self, couldn’t penetrate in an eon of eons, whether scratching away with those nasty, nacreous nails, (that have left their permanent glyphic scars in my hide - your sadistic form of a signature, I imagine), or, just hurling your particularly thorny and spirit-spearing versions of verbal vitriol … (you’re quite adept at both) … oh, by all means give yourself credit - there are few damsels that walk the beautied paths of this incredible earthly orb that have your commanding grasp of venom, malevolence and disdain, and there are few that can hide it so effectively beneath such enchanting layers of grace, sensuality and feigned interest, but, whether by karma or sheer dumb luck, I met too many others like you earlier in life, and I manufactured my walls with care and diligence … and fierce intent … so … no … you did not break my heart much as I’m sure you’d drink that draught like cheap wine (if you could, black crystal flutes, of course) in fact, you never even touched my heart nor did you know it’s chambers or, sadly, even care to … what you broke - what you stomped on and smashed and obliterated quite thoroughly, was my HOPE … and sometimes, in the darkest, coldest, most contrary crevices of night … when I’m praying my hardest, clenching my fists to white anguish, and wishing you straight to hell … I wish it HAD been my heart for it is much stronger and far easier … to find. Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, May 4, 2024