I've been pinning my
heartbreak
on you
but these days its not that
which makes me so
blue
because tinged with misery
were traces of
relief
it suits poetry better to
seem consumed with
grief
you're a muse with no
substance
a ghost with no
air
I promise a Picasso
and you leave the wall
bare
If you loved another
I'd be mad with
jealousy
but I no longer want you
and you no longer want me
we just dangle and taunt
yes we push and we flaunt
and we torture each other
we don't give on another
a chance to see that
somewhere
there is great friends in there
we ice our words with
barbs and they
shatter.
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