Timbuktu

A relationship gets the last rites

TIMBUKTU

Tears drop in silence from my eyes,
taking the very last part of you with them;
washing away all the traces of our love,
and cleansing my broken heart. 

Wind blows the torn letters in the yard,
blowing them to Timbuktu;
making sure that they are never found,
the last testament to your broken vows..

Blood runs cold in my wounded heart,
turning into snow and ice;
burying the life we made,
keeping me safe from hoping again.

Forever is a long, long time,
you promised to be mine;
it will take an eternity to mend this heart,
while I am in Timbuktu.
 

Author's Note

Thank you for your comments

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

interesting twist in your closing line ... you have gone to the place the letters were blown to .. i find that very interesting ... nice job of connecting with your pain .. your poem is raw and honest and deeply felt and that is all conveyed to me as i read .. its terribly relatable and just when i thought it was safe to go into the water the jaws of distant, past sorrow seeps into my consciousness again .. thanks a lot Violet! ..
just kidding .. :)))) great job with this ... very emotive for me ... and i love your use of Timbuktu .. as a kid i never new it is a real place ... only someplace far far away .. nice one
E.