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Showing posts from July, 2021


She would not love me Ever Like I loved her. There is a difference being a river And a lake. I would flow into her with a rush Often, breaching banks And she would wait for me Behind the stark tapestry Of brown buildings And soot infested skylines Behind the charade of city living And the grey hush From carpeted office floors Behind the ever grinning insta posts  And the harangue of the tweets Like a lake She would wait for me To fill her emptiness In odd seasons Of random loneliness. ----------------- maestitia stands for, among other things,  heartsore in latin. Image courtsey pinterest