The sound of not being in love (a poem)

Not having the most productive writing day, but I did manage to get this one out for now…

The low, hazy sounds
from the old tape machine
have a way
of soothing me into the afternoon
clutching the melancholy
like that ratty old blanket
I carried around with me until I was five

I’ve never been more drawn
than I am to what I can’t have
the fact that I don’t ski
is only one item of many
on the wrong side of the pro and con columns
I’ve been mentally compiling
since the moment she caught my eye

By the bridge, I’ve already drowned
my fate a fait accompli
the spiral of thoughts I dare not say
having dragged me away too soon
to embrace the melancholy
of the latest love I have forfeit
because the sadness makes me feel alive

(13 July 2017)

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