melissaahowells
521,131 poems read
He's Onto
He's onto, he says
to the next new girl
not like me.
He can't invite in
anyone or
anything
like me.
There's an armed guard at his
gate. With a stock pile of
hate. I'm no longer invited in.
The new girl is sweet,
has her own brand of dumb devotion.
Independent of thought if thoughts
resemble anything but his emotions.
She bears no resemblance to me.
I understand,
they like to go ballroom dancing.
She's fresh and she's clean,
her demeanor is scrupulous,
needs no flavor-
enhancing.
They go on unplanned vacations
and love each other in places
where no one watches or sees.
I'm loathe to point out, but it
might bear repeating,
he's reheating the hash of a romance
that was him
and was me.
Guess we're sometimes creatures of habit.
Repeating misdemeanors with the
voracity of rabbits.
Going at it again and again with the plight
of familiarity.
He's onto, he says,
his next new girl,
one fine filly is she.
But I can't help it,
I'm raising one eyebrow
at life's rare absurdities.
He's married the girl
who has a penchant for dancing.
On an unplanned vacation perhaps
she'll give him a son.
I've always borne kittens.
Alternated between independence
and co-dependence.
I am broken in places.
I feel rather stung.
He's onto, yes, he says
but to me he was never quite talking,
its a whole 'nother lifetime
he's not intuiting any of his thoughts onto me.
You know,
I thought he had died a long time ago
on some far distant planet.
A stranger to love, but even stranger to me.
He's onto, he says
his next new girl.
Its a boundary drawn in blood guts and bone.
It feels ruthless,
and the truth is,
I was his "only" once,
but now he wishes I would dry up, become dust
like I never was born.
Copyright January 17-18, 2013 All Rights Reserved By this Author
Melissa A Howells/// Meloo from her Tilt-a-World
For you speculators...The new girl most likely knew much of nothing about me.
But the old boyfriend did everything he used to like doing with me,
with her...found out, second hand...and in a way/manner, I really didn't want to know...
the teller thinking they had some "hot" information for me...and thinking nothing
of my feelings.
And belaboring the point now; I believe, its my prerogative.
to the next new girl
not like me.
He can't invite in
anyone or
anything
like me.
There's an armed guard at his
gate. With a stock pile of
hate. I'm no longer invited in.
The new girl is sweet,
has her own brand of dumb devotion.
Independent of thought if thoughts
resemble anything but his emotions.
She bears no resemblance to me.
I understand,
they like to go ballroom dancing.
She's fresh and she's clean,
her demeanor is scrupulous,
needs no flavor-
enhancing.
They go on unplanned vacations
and love each other in places
where no one watches or sees.
I'm loathe to point out, but it
might bear repeating,
he's reheating the hash of a romance
that was him
and was me.
Guess we're sometimes creatures of habit.
Repeating misdemeanors with the
voracity of rabbits.
Going at it again and again with the plight
of familiarity.
He's onto, he says,
his next new girl,
one fine filly is she.
But I can't help it,
I'm raising one eyebrow
at life's rare absurdities.
He's married the girl
who has a penchant for dancing.
On an unplanned vacation perhaps
she'll give him a son.
I've always borne kittens.
Alternated between independence
and co-dependence.
I am broken in places.
I feel rather stung.
He's onto, yes, he says
but to me he was never quite talking,
its a whole 'nother lifetime
he's not intuiting any of his thoughts onto me.
You know,
I thought he had died a long time ago
on some far distant planet.
A stranger to love, but even stranger to me.
He's onto, he says
his next new girl.
Its a boundary drawn in blood guts and bone.
It feels ruthless,
and the truth is,
I was his "only" once,
but now he wishes I would dry up, become dust
like I never was born.
Copyright January 17-18, 2013 All Rights Reserved By this Author
Melissa A Howells/// Meloo from her Tilt-a-World
For you speculators...The new girl most likely knew much of nothing about me.
But the old boyfriend did everything he used to like doing with me,
with her...found out, second hand...and in a way/manner, I really didn't want to know...
the teller thinking they had some "hot" information for me...and thinking nothing
of my feelings.
And belaboring the point now; I believe, its my prerogative.