1
Wise it is to live for a muse!
I know what the mythâs say:
âAll about him youâll obeyâ.
âFor you, darlinâ, Iâd steal the sun,
Give you its rays for a tan
In the arctic spring.â he vowed.
Have we spoken the same language?
A stranger, familiar in behavior,
Like we were dating,
Each with a different passage.
Only recently,
I saw him pass me in the corridor,
Then it was the rapture,
Of a moment I wish to capture.
I wish weâd talk more,
Like we did before,
âNeglectâ became his middle name,
And âForgetâ was his pen name.
But darlin'
Have you heard?
I havenât spoken a word
Ever since you returned
To the beast, Iâve tamed.
âDonât play with my nerves,
Push me to the edge of a sword!â
Iâm just a dried-up corpse,
Forgotten by the undertaker,
In the cemetery of love.
âNothinâ grows in the bones!â hurled the stones
Then whatâs with these flourishing lies,
Stinging my spine like thorns?
âToo sane to give birth to a fool!â he shout,
But my mind was set,
By Achlys* herself!
Honor was lost on you,
And virtue fell out of my lap
Like an aborted child.
2
Beside a martyred virtue
Lies rested and demons nested
Under the tattooed eyelids,
Of a mind sotted by moonlight.
Will my smoke make me loose,
And lose my breath and conscious
Up those cinema rows
Where I watched all of his shows?
Itâs just psychodrama!
Baby, donât worry,
Endless scenes of trauma,
Blurring my eyes to Nirvana.
I see you had it all,
Except a picture of me by your side,
Walking down the aisle.
You crossed my legs in two,
Then blamed it on the shoe
I wore just to please you!
You donât know the pain
It takes to win this game
And write a name other than âShameâ...
As above so below the waters,
Of the lucid swirls
Where his nets cought all the pearls.
Like a parasite entering the cells
He damaged the shells,
Of the nesting oysters.
How gritty it must be!
Wood grain layers
Rubed on glass teeth,
No wonder youâd bleed
Amidst your venomous speech.
In a bluish night,
I lingered in white sweat,
Never loved you⊠right?
Now itâs turning into a fight.
God, I wish youâd be quiet!
For once, hear my heart as it knocks
On the locked gates of the Heavensâ.
âCome'n count the beats
Of a lady turning into a freak,
Lounging seven feet deep
In an ocean of tears, the mermaids chant.
" Just a ghostly ship echoing nonsense!"
I cut my ropes like the braves
And drowned... before the tide turned.
I bled in braille,
Hoping youâd trace me
But " His heart isn't the harbor
To your graceful warship..."
So said the truth its last word.
3
Iâve been dreaminâ
Of Paradise screaminâ.
As I laid bare my apathy,
And clothed it in defiance.
His name still itches
On the back of my tongue,
I swallowed it down,
With every lie he hung.
Lit a cigarette on his memory
And let my lungs burn
In the mourning smoke.
"Is he still hooked on our story,
Or was I just a line in his diary,"
Crossed, smudged, miswritten?
This is no love poem,
Itâs an autopsy,
an anatomy
Of what was never born
But still died inside.
Some moonless nights
I hear his laughter
Echoing in the waves
Of an upcoming disaster.
Foolish it is to die for a scar!
Just another scar in my sails
That never quite blends, with the rest.
© B.M.Ella (2025)
*Achlys:
a figure in Greek mythology, often depicted as a personification of sorrow, misery, and the death-mist that clouds the eyes before death.