Aches of the Heart

Over and over
I told her
Oh the aches of the heart
Bet he knew
Right from the start
Over and over
He’d hold her
As the pain grew
His touch was colder

Heading home
Without direction
Broken hearts his
Prized possessions
Telling them it’s just obsession
At his feet a throne
(Of broken souls and bones)

Oh the aches of the heart
Bet he knew
From the start

Memories like rainfall,
Like crushing waves of stone
Mornings of mourning
Had she only known
Weakened and furied
And left all alone
Still he knew I was home

© Delia Ross. 2019

Nothing

I’m not a muse, I’m not a rat, I will never be that

I’m not amused, nor confused yet I’m easily misused
Discarded, rejected, spit out like spoiled food

I have bad looks with declining health and there is never any wealth

I don’t get by, I rarely lie, I don’t have feelings yet I sigh
I don’t get twisted, or blacklisted, I often fail though I still try

I’ve never loved, I’ve never bailed, still I feel like I’m always jailed

Misunderstood, and broken down, I’m the saddest in the town
I never smile and wear this frown like it is my only crown

I spit out words that go unheard, my speech is hardened and mostly blurred
If I seek help I’ll be removed from all that brings me joy which is absurd

I’ve never married or divorced and I sometimes feel that is worse
If I send valentines they get treated like a curse

I wish he liked me but he don’t
Or I’m so broken that he won’t

© Delia Ross. 2019

Transfer Request Pending

I’ve never had anyone look at me the way they look at her
Although I am fully grown I must be an amateur
I wonder when they look at me I appear to be a blur
Similar to a black hole, is there nothing to observe?
Many times I have been told I’m just not what they prefer
But why do they always get to decide what is that I deserve?
I applied to move to Mars, I hope they put in my transfer…

© Delia Ross. 2019

The Best Things In Life Aren’t Free

The best things in life aren’t free
But please don’t bother me
I changed the lock and key
It’s best if you now flee

He bled her clean
Filled images in her head
The young ones he will preen
And bleed them til they’re dead

The best things in life aren’t free, he said
With not even a look of dread
She knows it’s nothing she misread
His love trap is a deathbed
Miles and decades of lies widespread
But not an ounce of bloodshed

The worst things in life are free
And you’ll never remember me
I sat there clawing blindly
In the forest at the wrong tree
Because the worst things in life
Always seem to follow me

© Delia Ross. 2019