by Richard Vince

Everyone looks great in the Sun;
In the rain, no one can hide behind
Joy that is merely seasonal.

Cracks become painfully obvious
When they are papered over rather than
Healed. Repairs begin to take over
From what was there to begin with;
Scar tissue replaces the real you.

Sometimes, I begin to wonder
What is left of the friend I had
Under makeup applied to
Conceal sadness.

Of all the battered hearts in
All the dead end relationships in
All the world, she just had to
Stumble unwittingly into mine.

Perhaps she was what I needed;
Perhaps I was what she needed.
We did our best to ignore the obvious,
And now we shall never know.

My interior monologue veers ever closer
To character assassination
As the months pass. Is my descent
Into silent vitriol thanks to
Growing clarity or growing bitterness?

The music I once heard in her voice
Almost petered out in the slow
Second movement, but when it
Returned for the frenetic finale,
It was loud and discordant.

I wonder how it sounds to him:
The beguiling melody of an overture,
Or feelings by numbers from
A composer who tries too hard?


Posted on 06/18/2014
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince

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