Thinking of Ophelia (dated 10/15/2004)

There is no rainbow.
It was all an illusion.

There are no promises.
Roses die into black, withered petals.
Love songs break into tears of sorrow.
Smiles disintegrate.

Love fades.
Dreamy illusions become nightmares.
The warmth of her body is replaced,
By gloomy, wintry, misty windows.
Jolt awake in the middle of the night.
Dark, dreary… cold
Accompanied into the morning
By tears, by the waterfalls
Or frightening reverbations
of another sweaty nightmare.

Nobody told me.
"Don't get your heart broken
There aren't spare parts for one."

Nobody will hold me.

I am no prince.
No genius.
No man.
Not hers, anyways.

After all,
There was no rainbow all along,
And won't be one.
I was never her man,
And won't be one.

And, like the rainbow,
I believed.

Sometimes I still do…