Hello/Goodbye

Cycles

You used to treat my departure

As the up-blowing of a Boeing -

A disaster; an outrage

If not an act of terrorism.

Your sweat smelt like posies,

Your farts like roses

Your belches were a song

To me you could do nothing wrong.

But, alas, such a thing

‘Tis not meant to last.

 

Now you view my approach

As the arrival of a rival -

A bomb threat, or,

A call to arms.

You mobilize sarcastic armies

Conscript toxic quips

Send me warheaded texts, and BBMs

As devastating, as potent, as ICBMs…

 

So much of myself I poured into her

Only to be left as empty as Hiroshima.