Life Imitating Art

Do you know
what it's like
to cry until you have no tears left?
what it's like
to try to survive when all you feel like doing is lament?
what it's like
to die inside day by day, bit by bit, alone and adrift..
I know it all today, I knew it then...
I've known all along, to what I was getting myself in.
Still I consciously chose,
in the face of each warning and the general alarm,
the few precious moments in your insincere arm,
over a life, safe from your unintentional but inevitable harm...
hoping against all our history,
and all of the undeniable proof to the contrary,
that this time was real, that "we" might be the real deal...
that this time what I could feel, was returned to me with the same zeal.
that this time you would not break my heart, & you would not bail,
leaving me behind stewing miserably in my self-made, private jail.

But you did leave me,
once again...
and all I can feel is
numb...
No anger or hate flows through these veins
because I did this myself...
Yes, I did this to myself.

You broke my heart,
into these tiny bits and pieces,
once again,
and heard none of my pleas,
took no prisoners.
When done,
you swept the remainder away
under some neat and tidy rug,
right after crushing my broken soul,
like a misguided tiny & annoying little bug...

This was not the deal I had in mind,
when i had asked god, to let me be the one you’d find,
this wasn't the picture I had carried for years, in my hopeful little heart.
But everything has been wrong, right from the start.
it's all been a pitiful sham, that finally fell apart.
like the Shakespearean tragedies, my life... imitating art...
I just silently watch,
as the dying embers of my once tenacious soul depart.
I console myself by saying:
"It's just life imitating art."
"My love & life falling apart, is just life imitating art..."