There it was, labeled to me – I, the addressee
Trying on lovers because revenge tasted sweetly
Inserting the blade ever so neatly –
Ensuring the heart was severed completely

Burning through dreams like an oil field in the night
Running out of fuel and the zest for a life
Looking back but never having any foresight
Dancing in alleyways with nothing but a knife

I can lie and pretend I will live and die by you
One day, I’ll come to know those lies were never true
And now decades of mistakes when I should have just withdrew
That’s the trouble with searching for treasure when you haven’t any clue

© Delia Ross. 2019