
Part of my poetry collection, Margins of the First Draft — a reflection on heartbreak, vulnerability, and the messy beauty of moving forward, even when the words get stuck.
12. He was the sea
And there was I
Trembling
My love was
A fierce tempest ravaging my heart
Shaken, my world
Was set ablaze by his gaze
And he was
A dead calm sea
Poetry on the Margins #12 What is the word?
What is it about writers —
that they write about their heartbreak
as if it killed them and life never moved on,
and you never found
that person who truly, un... ummm... unapologetically?!?!
Loved you too?
I have been writing about heartbreak
as if the earth did split open
and swallowed me whole.
Though, it did feel like it.
Life did go on.
How cruel.

Links to more of my work:
If you like reading stories: Six-Sentence Stories, Short Stories, Romance and All That, Dead Poet
Or poetry : On the margins of the First Draft
and more reflections than poetry: On the Margins of the Second Draft
My band "Chaos in Spring" can be listened to on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.

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