Shapeless

Two poems. One was written in the relationship, the other was outside of a bad breakup. We both saw it coming, and yet we loved each other so fiercely. I merged the two poems.

Shapeless

 

After you cut and run

I felt shapeless. I was a nothing.

Not a void, not a sound, not a thought,

only a living-pain killer.

 

Tonight.

Stars twinkle

Moon juice spills in from the window.

 

My routine was a puzzle to which I could not place the pieces

I learnt to cook for one.

I slept on the couch. The bed was cement,

the sheets made of sand.

 

Tonight

We set fire to our bed of gerberas

All along Cerberus was howling from hell.

 

Is it true you pawned your ring?

Sometimes that keeps me up at night

    My delicate ego finally broke.

 

Oh-no, another sappy poet in peril.