I Have Moved On

The fake postman under the spell of your sob story
had dropped the forty-ninth letter in nine months
Envelope stained with cerise lipstick, perfumed with promises,
sealed with the saintliest of tears.

Your best ammunition had met my firewall
Shrapnels dropped like snowballs at my feet
You knew I still missed you to the bone
Turning to meet you I see the circle
I cringe like a mouse that recognized the trap
written, "We can still build our future together again"
My tenderized heart gathering its hewn
stones thrown far apart when you showed me my old aftershave
telling how you smell it to
sleep for five years
I fought tears refusing to water the old garden
of our broken love.

I can not return, Never!
Hell is heaven when it cries for lost prey
I had smelt the quicksand beneath your rosy bed

"Forgive me" I spat
Feeling for my tourniquet dripping fast
"I choose to be doomed with my decision.
I have moved on."

- Martins Deep

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