moving on.

moving on.

A Poem by Michael William Fowler

Looking back on this poem it reminds me of, well for one thing, a state of mind. Not a state of mind i choose but one which I believed was forced upon me. Even pain can be beautiful if worded correctly.




Your happiness kills me.

Like a beautiful bullet,

Wrapped in velvet


Rattling round the empty spot

Where you used to be,


And every lacerating laugh

Cuts my heart with invisible pain


Spew bile through clenched teeth

It’s all I have left.


And I wonder

Why I’m here


Subjecting myself

To your destructive aura


Which effects and afflicts…


Only me…

© 2008 Michael William Fowler

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Added on August 5, 2008