Misery Loves Company: A Break-Up Poem

Dear Anita,
I just read your entry on loneliness and I have to say- holidays suck bigtime-especially when you've just broken up with your boyfriend. I wrote this poem recently and I just wanted to share it with you because heartbroken souls need someone to commiserate with.

The poem is about my ex. One day he turned as cold as winter on me and I found out he had been sleeping with some other girl. I was so gutted and wrote this poem after drinking myself into oblivion in front of my computer. Interestingly, after I wrote it, I kind of felt better. Hope you enjoy it.

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WINTER IN YOUR GARDEN

I wonder whether it was all just an illusion.
Your love poems, Bali, our nights of heady passion
your sweaty brow dampening my breasts
the bridge, the wheel, down dog, shavasana
the womb glue that made us initially stick
the inseparable energy that kept us up
Skyping till the wee hours in the morn
 
Then the fights, the drama, the passion
Yet the exuberance of the new
kept us on the trajectory
coming back despite the spite
We dreamt that one day
we’d be bigger than ourselves
and create something beautiful together
LIFE
 
Was it something we imagined?
Two old dogs, wanting to learn new tricks
we stumble and fall together
our energies flow through one another
affecting, loving, frustrating, saddening
discovering, aiding, afraiding
yin and yang, a rollercoaster
love lived with burning intensity
 
We fell together in the illusion
We SO wanted to believe
that fleeting vision
that another can bring happiness
only to realize
grief grows in love’s backyard
like a weed choking the dream
 
Winter freezes the elderberries
Will spring behold a refreshing rain?
Will summer bring back the previous heat?
Even then, once thawed,
will things ever be the same?
These questions sadden me
The uncertainty lumps in my throat
with tears in my eyes, my stomach sinks
and I jump out

FREE-FALL

looking to the outside
yet the answer is inside
 
And you, stone cold, like winter has already
happened upon your gardens
I toughen my skin and brace myself
For the wind, the wane and coming of the transitory blizzard
Hoping this too is just an illusion.
and that one day we WOULD hold hands
by the placid lake
despite the ripples
despite the season.
 
This is still my dream
This is still my hope.
 
 Signed- Jilted

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