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Bloody Typical

Bloody Typical

So near and yet so far...

Cruel bitch! Dream squasher!

Fate, Fortune, Destiny...

Whatever the fuck her name is?

How I loathe her sometimes.


Laughing at my plans,

With her turned up nose

And that cute, wee smile.

That harpie has plans of her own.


Testing me, teasing me,

Showing me what I might have,

Giving me the merest glimpse

Of hope, shining from the darkness.


Once, she was beside me,

In my hour of need,

Her hand on my shoulder,

Stroking my back, cooing.


But, now that I'm happy,

Well, kind of,

She sneers at me

With that contorted smile.


She stretches the planet,

Morphing time and distance,

Making them her bitches and

Then whipping me with them.


She lets me see

What I wish for and

What could be,

Yet I may never have,


No matter how much

I want it,

Need it, even

Deserve it?


The bitter irony of seeing

Happiness so very close

But so unattainable kills me.

A contorted smile splits her face.


She laughs at me and mocks

This perfect match; healthy,

Growing, loving and caring,

Two pieces that just fit.

Oh! To find a love so true,

But be unable to requite it.

Distance, timing, circumstance,

My enemies for sure.


I’d earned it, or so I'd thought,

After a test of endurance.

Now I observe, helpless,

As though behind a mirror.


I stand forlorn,

Palms flat on glass,

Shouting and railing

At the injustice of it all.


I know what I signed up for,

I’m aware of gifts bestowed

With one hand, yet

Taken with the other.


I sigh and wait to see

What fresh madness

She has in store for me


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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