Love Did Not Fade

Her eyes did not wander
no kisses were shared
on another’s lips
love did not fade


she walked away
from mistrust
and pain



love did not fade

Lost in the words of a song –
a bitter boy
clings to the hands
of time
and the widow     separated
from the bride
by years of experience;
love does not fade
it all becomes part of his game


even when she is not the one
he is thinking of
love does not fade

it remains

hidden, locked away
the passion of six years
bittersweet, held tight

surrounded by wishes and desire

no it didn’t
does not
did not

~ Siobhan



Closed in by four walls freshly painted and
a ceiling which promises not to leak,
she is trapped in a prison she helped build.
No guard stands at the door yet she is still
unable to leave, tied to memories
she might cherish if she could leave behind
frustrations built on broken lovers vows.

One chore done with two more taking its place,
she tells herself to hold on, not break down.
Tears wash away the aggravation, deep
breathing makes it easier to calm nerves
frayed to the edge of frazzled, survival
depends on the ability to see
herself as one step closer to freedom.



Painting over the Past

Covering colors of what was shaded
in varietal hues and clear dark green –
Merlot and absinthe, old drunken spirits

she paints over the past; chooses with care
the fresh asparagus and light cream sauce;
a glass of crisp pinot grigio
and garden salad, her appetite ripe,
her palette prepares for new adventure.

Each stroke brings memories along with it.
Unable to obscure the emotion,
she allows it to flow through her body.
Anger blends with pain, mixes up sorrow
as a side dish and serves her two choices.
Permission to consume – or acceptance.



I spilled magnetic
words across the table
in search of ‘the one’
to describe the sensation
clawing its way out of my chest.
belly – sire – trod – crass – limpid

None of them
felt right.
Temporal – tress – gild – treacle

all wrong,
void of meaning
sufficient to express this
mixture of (pain, fear, anger) emotion
simmering inside.

It is not enough
for me
to know the words
fecund – verbose – salient – sure

I must understand the language as well.
I must understand myself.


No Clear Winner

Late November storms rattle the shutters,
chase her under the covers to escape.
Howling wind mocks with opportunities
missed and broken promises. It scatters
her emotions like autumn leaves; it clings
to some dream, some lost voice no longer heard.

Rain drips through the cracks along the window,
tears in a house that hasn’t been a home –
happiness forgotten between the shouts
and harsh words, laughter now a memory.

Unseasonable weather mimics her
inner turmoil, desire battles
with self-preservation and common sense,
neither the clear winner, both have been lost.




The truth about love, and its addiction;
you to me, me to you, the ‘we’ that was
‘us’ has not disappeared, it waits – dormant
in these lean years. These days when so little
holds reason; when pain and anger over
shadow all that once was short of ideal.

My stomach churns and this ache has not left
my chest.  Heavy emotion races through
and runs me ragged. Clarity of thought
escapes and I beg for freedom from that
which threatens to swallow me – heart and all.
Between love and addiction lies the truth.

I’m consumed with the desire to give,
to forgive, to forget, to love – to trust.


The Five Stages

Bolts of electricity, not the kind
to restart the heart, but to stop it – cold.
Breath caught in her ribs, denial sitting
on her tongue, she can’t speak out against him.
Cruelty – intended or done by chance –
scrapes nerves raw. Anger oozes from within
coloring each word he speaks; rejection
rings in her ears … you are not good enough.
She begins the bidding with a price set
by the cheap flights back, moves on to offer
her body (her heart already given),
knowing this bargaining chip may not work.
Alone, she sinks with depression’s stone; slow
acceptance. The will to survive, her strength.