The stench of
obsession
reeks
when you speak
her name
the memory
of your old flame
the fire she lit
in your spirit
still burns
disgusting and
pungent
threatening to singe
the fragile fabric
woven by
our love.
Your voice hard
and impassioned,
you speak
with such disdain
I refrain
from questions
why the thought of,
her face
her voice
her name
stinks with such
contempt
if you've let it go...?
The scent of
addiction
suffocatingly
permeates the air
when she
stops and stares
in denial
that the love
she defiled
no longer exists...
Or does it?
Is there an
invisible bond,
that continues
to connect her life
to your own?
An invisible crown
of your self inflicted
invisible halo of thorns -
Absent
are the fragrant roses
that once adorned
its stems.
Just like
she left your heart,
In disrepair -
Leaving you and me
hangin'
out on a limb.