Starting next month, I’ll do my best to provide at least a paragraph of explanation per poem. Often they just get written on the fly without much thought, but occasionally something begs to be written. This is a case in point, and is one of what is likely to become a running commentary of how people live their lives so much online, as to make it impossible to devolve reality from fantasy. Relationships will suffer. People will get hurt.

Nothing good comes from obsessive behaviour, and never will.


Your Loss

I am sorry that suddenly
we are no longer whole;
overnight, unexpectedly
perfect World caved in, messy
puddle of emotional frailty
left at your front door.

I am fully aware circumstance
has overtaken reality, swallowing
moments bring clarity: intent,
zenith of combined passion
lies buried in that hole
dug with garden shovel.

I am conscious of your loss,
meticulously recorded across
all social media, tinged
blood red indignation
endlessly retweeted outrage
no end in sight.

We were never an item
despite protestations
contrary positions posted
until, crucially, reality
intervened after which time
nothing else was real.

You have created drama
where none previously existed
in a clever attempt to
deflect reality’s glare
away from a truth
that never involved me.