Absence of Self
Consider it a bad trip.
To hell and back.
The black hole
that was her soul.
Humiliation.
Denigration
frustration
manipulation
and revelations.
He was lonely because he had lost himself.
Broken tattered and shattered
holding onto an ideal.
He was torn in two
his shredded psyche
his soul
saw the bursting
girls’ lips
where love was a sweet high breeze
holding the night forever.
Drained
exhausted all possibilities
tried to curb his expectations
in order
to soften his disappointment.
Melted down.
Lost himself to regain himself.
Created a new narrative
the person he once knew
the person he wanted to know.
The idealist
the dreamer
and the screamer.
The romantic realist.
The Machiavellian hippie.
Not just single now,
but a focused bachelor.
~Edward Austin Robertson
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