There are times when I feel that you are so far away. There exists a chasm that I can’t leap to, no matter how hard I try to fill it. I can feel it when you withdraw. I know then that you are thinking of her – the one before me. You won’t admit it, I just wish you would. The words you say to me, at times, it feels that you are saying it to convince yourself. I don’t know how much of it is something you truly feel and mean.

You drift away into your melancholy solitude leaving me in the shadow. Perhaps you still feel a certain betrayal to her in being with me and feeling happy. You wonder if she’s happy or if she’s alright. You want a good person for her; you want her to be taken care, like she should. You need to let it go, let it go, darling, before it destroys the good we have.

Petal P. Rose

Loss

One Art - Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem fiolled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster;
plances, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look (Write it!) like disaster.