Collateral Damage

Callus was the heart of the man she tried to love.

Careless, the mind of a friend she tried to understand.

Broken was her spirit, the day he slipped away.

Not for the pain of losing love, but rather the reality that it was never really there.

Those neat little words, dripping ever so delicately from his tongue.

As the desire for truth overshadows its nonexistence.

Their many moments together, when the world would seem to fade away.

Are now just memories, she longs to forget.

The connection between them that she once felt was unmistakable,

She suddenly realized, was all in her head.

Perhaps foolishly, she thought their history meant something,

That she meant something, to him.

But now that time has passed and reflection taken hold,

All hope for him has faded into dust.

Those arms that once held comfort,

Hold nothing more than disappointment now.

And the piercing reminder, that he never really cared.

Not really, not for her.

It is all much clearer now.

She was merely a convenient relief for him, after a time of heartbreak and loss.

A familiar pleasure to pass the time.

Nothing more, than collateral damage, in his search for something better.

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A Heartfelt Poem – by the very talented John Coyote!~

Payment due my friend A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just words Payment due my friend I sat daily by the Lake St. Clair lake. I watched the boats go by and I wrote and read. I drank coffee and I fell into Jack London, Kosinski and the words of Donne. I always had my […]

via ‘Payment due my friend’ — johncoyote

The Man Behind The Mask

Of all the monsters I’ve encountered

I never thought it would be you.

To take me so high into the sky,

Just to let go when I needed you the most.

To your kindness I was a fool,

For I never imagined,

I was not safe with you.

I thought I knew the man behind the mask,

The beautiful stranger underneath.

But now I see,

You meant the world to me,

And I,

I meant nothing to you.

 

Image courtesy of  hyena reality at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Silly Little Optimist

You silly little optimistic girl.

Did you really think it would be different?

No one will ever love you.

Not with their whole heart at least.

Perhaps the mystery in your eyes will lead them to ponder…

To wonder…

What it would be like…

To love you.

But as with everything, that will surely fade.

You were not meant to be loved my dear.

There is no peace for you here.

No happiness.

No joy.

Loneliness; the only thing that’s real.

So walk or better yet, run

Far away from it all.

Go dark

Go distant

They won’t notice

Here today, gone tomorrow

 

You never meant a thing to them.

 

 

Sleep

I used to think there were never enough hours in the day,

But these days it seems there are too many.

Morning comes like clockwork,

Forcing me to face the pain I hold within.

It used to be easy, hiding behind this facade,

But these days, I struggle.

Begging for nightfall before the sun has fully risen in the sky,

Craving the peace that only sleep can bring.

The nights are becoming shorter now,

With the swallow of every pill.

An act of self preservation.

For I fear if sleep does not come soon,

Courage may be lost and all hope abandoned in facing another day.

Pleasurable Discomfort

 

Wounded, she drove.

Into the night, she sped.

There was no looking back now.

For something had came over her, just moments before.

As she turned the key,

Put down her phone,

And lit her last cigarette,

The painful reality of this distance took hold.

Wiping a tear from her cheek,

She tried to pretend it didn’t matter.

She didn’t care.

It didn’t hurt.

But it did.

And it scared her.

She was here again,

In this space,

Of pleasurable discomfort.

One that time has proven,

Only leads to damage.

And the disappointment,

Of yet another failure.

To be brave, would be her triumph.

But she fears, the risk too great.

For her heart,

Has no more room for stitches.

And her mind no place for doubt.

For once…

She thought,

It would be nice to be the prize,

Instead of the one fighting for it.

And so…

Wounded, she drove.

Into the night, she sped.

Trying to pretend it didn’t matter.

She didn’t care.

It didn’t hurt.

But it does.