Category: Poetry

All my heroes have fallen dead to me from their cheating. And so I have no more heroes other than the man I am becoming, a future better version, untouchable inspiration of what I could be, of what I should be: inevitably a better person.

Aragorn gave hope to Men but kept none for himself, heart broken and wearied by service and sacrifice. I gave love again and again but there is none for myself or for me, for my Undomiel my Evenstar, fell as the Morningstar; in pride in lust to Hell. Fallen Broken Angel.

There are no words to describe the emptiness in my heart, the Void you filled before you walked out.

You were a spoiled scared teenager in a beautiful woman’s body. But you devolved into a narcissistic child unable to accept “no”, your current desires ruling all of your actions, throwing temper tantrums if you don’t get your way. And I, like a parent, still unconditionally love you, even if you hate me for having […]

As you observed: I remember everything, you remember nothing. That is the tragedy.

When you are that empty you can never be filled no matter how much I pour my heart into you, no matter how much love you are given. You will remain ravenous devouring hungry alone.

Another lie. And another. And another. How many until you lose it all and finally face consequences for your actions?

You called me baby projecting your immaturity onto me, while I called you love projecting my desire.

Gone. You’re gone. And I miss you.

The last gasps of warmth, an Indian Summer of the soul before you fade into the dark and cold, winter come to your heart too early.