Stealing Home

When I’m gone,
There’ll be no point
Calling me.
For there’ll be no one here.
There’ll be no one hanging on
The line.
No one waiting around
This time.
No, not this time.

For you’ve been stealing my home
Right out from under me.
Torn the foundations apart.
Along with all security,
My heart –
Torn apart.

The walls tumbling down,
All-around
Like tears falling to the ground.
And all that is left
Is the ruin of a broken home,
A shattered heart.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Notions

photo credit: PiConsti Thunderstroke via photopin (license)

I’m glad my pain amuses you,
I’m glad my distress keeps you warm.
I’m glad my feelings of inadequacy
Kept you entertained on the night of the storm.

I’m secretly pleased that you enjoyed my disease
That you found them of use, the experiments on my body and soul.
That you could view with scholarly detachment
The dissection of my brain by the scavenger crows.

I’m glad all my notions and twisted emotions
Merited a footnote in the book of your life.
I’m happy for you, that you found someone new.
But the scars that I bear were caused by you and your knife.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

I Was Different Then

I used to love her
But that was then,
That was a different life,
A different circumstance.

That was when someone else
Held the strings
And I danced on
To someone else’s song.

My fate was controlled
My future was not my own,
A dice throw and happenstance
Outside of my control.

But now I take my chance
Out here on my own
Where freedom isn’t a delusion,
Not a bargaining chip

Illusion, bought and sold.
I used to love her
But that was yesterday
And yesterday is gone.
 
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally Published 17 August 2016

Body Language

photo credit: ShanePix Of Angels and Angles! via photopin (license)

Lingering glances
Towards the door
Through which
You are aching to leave.

I want you to stay
But I’ve seen the signs.
Never again
Will you be aching for me.
 
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Over You

And here to wrap up this month of looking back with a poem about not being able to leave the past behind …

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: Giuseppe Milo (www.pixael.com) Staring at sunset – Skerries, Ireland – Color street photography via photopin(license)

I cannot cry no more
Because of all the tears
I’ve cried before,
Because of the oceans I’ve wept
Down to the very depths.
I can’t spend any more time,
Pennies or heartbeats
Over you.
Because that will leave me bankrupt
And I can’t risk another heartbreak
Just yet
When I’m not ready to be
Over you.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Destination Unknown

For November 18 here’s a poem about distance and ever increasing silences

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: One Candle Photos Time Portal Watercolor via photopin(license)

How did we end up with so much distance
Between you and I? Between what we were
And what we’ve become. Gaping silences
Now divide us, where once laughter united.

There was a time I’d have driven for miles
To bask in the glory of a half-smile.
Now I just wonder, how did we end up
With so much distance between you and I?
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Over You

I cannot cry no more
Because of all the tears
I’ve cried before,
Because of the oceans I’ve wept
Down to the very depths.
I can’t spend any more time,
Pennies or heartbeats
Over you.
Because that will leave me bankrupt
And I can’t risk another heartbreak
Just yet
When I’m not ready to be
Over you.
 
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Hall of Mirrors

I can’t pretend I don’t regret
The way I broke the moment into pieces.
That the last I saw of you
Was just a shattered reflection
Of what had gone before.
I was brought up to be honest
But surely there was a version of the truth
Or a kinder lie

That could have protected
A little of what we’d shared.
Would it have been ignorance or innocence
To have left you sleeping
On the morning of the day
That a part of me died.

© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Originally published 28 February 2016

Fragility

photo credit: matthias lueger via photopin (license)

It was desire that set things on fire

That tore my world apart

It was the burning passion of desire

That broke my fragile heart

 © 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Run

photo credit: jenny downing etched via photopin (license)

River run,
Water flows,
Always
Carrying you away
From me.

Oceans,
Silvered seas,
Raindrops on windowpanes –
Flowing away
From me.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.