I remember putting on my white dress,
trying to hold back tears from stress.
I knew deep down that I never wanted to walk down that aisle,
but my feet kept moving with a perfect, fake smile.

I put all my faith in God above,
and I even prayed to feel His love.
Because all I wanted was to do the right thing,
and I truly believed that getting married to a man would fix everything.

One year later I am back where I started,
but this time with divorce papers feeling cold-hearted.
I never wanted it to end this way,
and how naive of me to think I was strong enough to stay.

Now I just want to hug my mom while I cry out,
but she is disgusted with the fact that I came out.
I am filled with tears of hatred and shame
because I lit up my life with an irreversible flame.

I asked for this.
I asked for all of this.

You left us
But you are not gone
At least not for me

You told me since I was a child that he was a villain
So how can I love myself
When I see HIS face in the mirror
Every single morning....

Dream House
by Michael R. Burch

I have come to the house of my fondest dreams,
but the shutters are boarded; the front door is locked;
the mail box leans over; and where we once walked,
the path is grown over with crabgrass and clover.

I kick the trash can; it screams, topples over.
The yard, weeded over, blooms white fluff, and green.
The elm we once swung from leans over the stream.
In the twilight I cling with both hands to the swing.

Inside, perhaps, I hear the telephone ring
or watch once again as the bleary-eyed mover
takes down your picture. Dejected, I hover,
asking over and over, “Why didn’t you love her?”

Keywords/Tags: dream house, divorce, parting, separation, shuttered, weeds, trash can, mover, movers, moving, rejection, relocation

Departed
by Michael R. Burch

Already, I miss you,
though your parting kiss is still warm on my lips.

Now the floor is not strewn with your stockings and slips
and the dishes are all put away.

You left me today . . .
and each word left unspoken now whispers regrets.

Keywords/Tags: divorce, parting, separation, departure, kiss, goodbye, farewell, leaving, gone, absent, absence, loneliness, alienation, isolation, unspoken, words, whispers, regrets, sadness, sorrow, despair

It’s sweet like whiskey,
the aftertaste of your divorce,
and you force yourself to keep wearing lipstick
like the magazines tell you to.
Someday (you hope) soon, you’ll feel brand new.
It’s all just a second act, really,
and that jam-packed, steely feeling at
the bottom of your
sentences is meant to be discarded,
dug apart, and left unmentioned.
The phonebooths all hug in on themselves,
shrugging against the rain
when you pass by,
and the sky is always a schizophrenic grey
these days, clouds marching away
to an unpromising horizon.
You phone once,
after the papers have been signed,
to hear the sound of a newly parallel life
on a recorded track
to hear that voice one last time
telling you they’ll call you back.

See her standing there, all alone
Watch the tears fall on a faded photograph
She sits there quietly, glancing at her phone
Just to keep her mind away from the laughter

See him standing there, all alone at the bar drinking
Watch the drops of whiskey fade an old photograph
He sits there angry at himself, tells the bar to keep them cranking
As the ***** wears off, all he can hear is her distant laughter

Can't you see they both belong together
It's just a matter of time until they flock their feathers
She sits quieting waiting for his call, as he stands up he tries not to fall
The flashing of the lights and the darkness of the moon

The car that was crashed, is one that won't be forgotten
As He lays in the slums with the down trodden
The man he lost his wife, in the absence of the bright
Now he lives his life, not gazing at anything in sight
For the man is long forgotten.