You crushed me like grapes
when you kissed her in the vineyard…
Don’t you remember how our bond was fermented
by our nightly trysts in the cellar?
You grew on me,
Consuming my sugar
Only to leave me bitter and drained,
Withdrawing your lips from me too soon,
Now I linger here like aftertaste,
Dissipating in life’s spittoon.
Sometimes I dance in a graveyard
while the moon reclines among the nitid throng above,
“I want to be loved”
“I will be loved”
“I want to be loved”…
As if in mockery of my internal anguish
Arouse the echoing walls of my heart.
Oh! How the abyss aches from suppressed feelings –
For if it has been proven that flawed has won perfection,
I with newfound voice would sound my soul like a wolf under moonlight.