He Could Be #6

Oh how sad, as I sat at a conference,

thinking this is it, and he’d be there –

realizing the crisis of my career,

he was making the executive decision

that our relationship was over.


He came over at 6pm – early, on the dot.

An ambush it felt, not bothering to make small talk,

needing to unburden himself, very little thought to me.

I think he wanted to make me cry,

and cry I did.

Overwhelmed at the thought that he’d never be in my life again,

when I knew – I knew, this was something special.

I told him, in two days time, said he’d regret this.

Went on angry feminist rant, that in romantic films –

it’s always the man who says that you’ll regret this,

and the woman does.


He always needed to be right,

but this time I know he’s wrong.


The tears are gone, now I’m pissed.

Telling me that our relationship was missing something,

never communicating just what.

At first, asking me to fix it, that I was missing something,

making me feel flawed, trying to get something out of me

when I obviously wasn’t ready to do so.


When did you realize I didn’t have this quality,

when did you realize our relationship was missing something,

and never would – and why didn’t you recognize this sooner,

if it was so imperative?


You broke up with me like I was being fired,

but now I’m tired of crying,

just want to tell you so.


Just want you to come over right now and kiss me,

and make love to me, and hold me, hold me

but instead, I’ll wait for you to ask for your keys back,

and prepare your poetry chapbook.


Image by Erik Pot from Pixabay