Violence

What softness echoes this heart,
Did I not banish you long ago?
Everything else has long departed
Won’t you take it now, please

There is always something left behind
Some old reminder crops up unwittingly
So interwoven were my heartstrings to your love
That pulling apart has left it all tattered and bruised

So bittersweet is this leftover love
More bitter than sweet methinks
If your jugular was still in my breath’s reach
I wonder if my teeth would sink in to leave a bruise, or tear it away

Of this soft violence, I do not condone
My poor heart is quite physically bruised
This violence; not of words spoken harsh and cruel
Just typical words, my share of love, in them, withheld

Am I not the man scorned? Am I not the one derided?
Did I do by you any wrong or harm great?
Would my vengeance or reckoning be so out of place?
Should I too claim my pound of flesh, suck the marrow out your bones?

Did your sense of duty not extend to my love?
To my heart was nothing owed?
Has another heart for you bled as this one has
All its duty and honor were to you

I let the days pile up, one on top of the other
These mourning carcasses of weeks and months
Learning to live without purpose or fear
Reeling from the violence, this heart, unloved