Earlier today, I read an article about what divorced people do with their wedding rings. This isn’t strictly about that, but the poem I wrote after the poem I wrote about that.

When I’m on the verge of tears I listen to a song from three years ago
You don’t know me now, I know, and that’s the weight I feel
I thought the end would be a new beginning
now I see how wrong I was

The end was where the tape got sliced
for the new part that would be spliced to it
to create the illusion of an uninterrupted performance

The death that befell us
in that cabin nestled amongst the woods
took its time in coming
then flattened us in its path to the other side of the highway

Motorists ignore the signs that restrict their speed
as I ignored the signs that signalled my need
and signed on for the duration without paying heed
to the signals that warned me not all was as it seemed

At the center of it all
I was hungry

Starving

Looking for a way to stanch the bleeding
from the time before
when I fled down the zip line from defeat
in hopes of escaping myself

A mission doomed to failure

Even if I could get away from that last defeat
I was bound to the circumstance of who I am
who I was and who I would be

and it’s all me
and it’s all me
and it’s all me

(22 August 2016)