#13

you broke my heart when i left you. my choice,
my irony, what can I say? I sob
and you return my things. The bitter job
is nothing, for she makes your heart rejoice.

we're better off this way, I know, and this
knowledge just makes me choke on deep
dark dregs of dreams. My heart no longer leaps
at sight of you, my lips no longer kiss.

If I could turn back time - but would I? Know
that this is done, my heart cautions. I do.
My actions are but that; I cannot rue
what my mind undid - my mind, my heart's foe.

It's too late now to change my mind and heart,
so one must close, the other hope impart.

April #3

Looking back
at all these things I've done,
I flip pages
in photo albums
which I realize I am now thankful
for keeping.
I read old poems
that I wrote years before,
most of it
mediocre at best.
But still I must appreciate it,
its inherent value,
as a record of who
and what and where
I was in life.
Oh, how we change, how we are all
so mutable with time and love and life.

I have one prayer, and that is for you,
my constant, my rock.
Let you not change from me.