Story of a Failed Marriage

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

Honestly, it doesn’t matter what caused 
the once-soft Tuscan sunset to cast a sharp bright shadow – 

Maybe his drummer clashed with your jazz, 
or you were faithfully building a life 
in Boston and he was in Arizona, 
dreaming of old ghostly lovers - it doesn’t matter.  

All you know is your Tiffany’s diamond looks
cheaper than a charm bracelet from Claire’s.
Your golden hour memories have the nauseating tinge 
of puke-mustard, seeds you once planted with optimism 
the pigeons ate, then crapped on your porch, 
and the sex is artificial vanilla – unnatural and bad.  

So you drink
in the sunny Paris smiles 
of men not yet ruining your life
Like anesthesia – easy to overdose.

Every marriage ends 
in either death or Detroit wasteland -
Details don’t matter; it’s all the same story.

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Twiglets, WODC, Shay’s Word Garden Word List, dVerse, and retroactively for Living Poetry and W3

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Don’t worry – my marriage is not as broken as this poem would imply.