—ALL OF MY PLANS WENT BOOM, THEN BUST

  

 

Like Hell

 

 

The sun sets without either you or I 

like a mauve tantrum or ambush

so beautiful I could cry if 

crying didn’t also mean a form of dying 

sacrificing hope in the process

You said you loved me a thousand times 

and now that phrase is a spent glass of Chardonnay 

wearing two dead flies

Tomorrow’s another day with 

different answers and outcomes 

but that doesn’t change the fact that I miss you like hell 

and hell wants me dead.