Love Not Gone

i still love her but it doesn't hurt
can it still be love a quiet love
a love where i feel nothing
loveshock loveshot
i love her but i'm over her
i'm far from her
we don't speak
don't see

we're both pathetic creatures
here for a little while
egos glaring
i 've hated her
the flip side of having good feelings
for the same Her

i still write verse
with her in mind
i see visions of her
in bed with her beautiful male
runway model boyfriend
making him angry aroused
laughing as she brings him to orgasm

why did he want to break up?
because she drinks too much
smokes too much
is going a little more zaftig
than he likes

does she ask around
what does she find out
that i'm doing things
have it easy
have it hard

living on the street
in the post office
up the hill
with another woman
still writing
still dreaming

how will she ever know
i turn her into pornographic
memories fantasies
out of love
not from malice aforethought

i still love her
but don't hurt
if i came around
& saw her
with one of her boys
maybe i'd relapse
go into a catatonic state
knock somebody's teeth out

i might've joked this whole
thing away had i known what
the hell i was doing
but...she was deceptive
keeping her options open
else runway model boy
wasn't around when i first met her

or just entered or reentered her life
had i known had she told me
there was a significant other
i could've saved myself
a lot of grief backed off
not invested my soul

in the deeps of her
not worshipped at her altar
as i did worship mad & frenzied
would've maintained safe distance
safe quarter but then...

but then...what would have been gained?
non-ordinary existence was wrested
from the darkened field of destiny
fine fate rose up as waters
on the flood's first day

i'm her slave forever
whether she knows it or not
secret protector of her vulnerable
wayfaring image
guardian of her body
lover of the idea of her soul

she must've realized
i could never go back
under her terms
even with a flag of truce
peace between us

i'd have to keep silent
on how i felt
communication would be limited
no joking allowed
just do my job & pretend
i wasn't dying in my silence

if i loved her enough
i'd have done the work
i would've suffered public
humiliation
she'd come to like humiliating me
she'd developed a taste for it
a maneater out for human blood
my own glorious fault

why let another creature
take me to the unknowns
the black red nights
alcohol & strange old man smells
utter decrepitude & natural rejection

in this indifferent swarm of suns
playing at godhead
disappearing sentience
where love mattered once
when there was life to run with it

--GP aka JSW

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A little background music to read my poem by: