Life, love, the age of fragmentation
and identity theft runs rampant among
those defined by someone other than

lost, amnesia, the who am I effect, stripped
of definition left to wander, alone, solitude
not withstanding

silence, fog, zero visibility, vertigo, how then
now to find the way, naked and afraid exposed
before all the elements

yet one stands apart living without love for it is
but a fragmentation, solitude provides a safe
place for the wanderer whose character came
into question

found in the shadows of the fringe on the outside
looking in shedding life like a skin, every step a
journey, each blister a story

a loner by default needs no one to describe them
with fables and tales of grandiose ideas for they are
the glittering generality of a person or persons wishing
to make something more out of what is not

life is life, while love clearly is a corruption of an idea based
upon a need, self-discovery is then a voyage within the
innermost world where one can define themselves as they



Happily Never After

Life, it’s all about choices
which define a direction,
some of which are blind
leaps of faith while others
seem a bit more rational
in the promise of something
better than the present

in every choice there is
a giving up of one thing
in order to have the other
and in this, it is a rare occasion
that one can honestly say they
have considered what it is that
is being given up

to state my case clearly would
be to admit to a thirteen year
relationship with a ghost, who
became trading stock for someone
other, someone I could touch
and feel, someone tangible

the making of that choice became
the choosing to release the spirit
of one most dear for a perception,
which led to the day in which I
became a choice not taken

wise advice finds its way within
through hindsight clarity to where
greener grass exists only in thought

people often say the pain will ease
in time, but the only thing fading is
the memory, which is now two-fold
and I am angry, for one chose me not
but still loves me and the other, I gave
up perfection to be left with nothing

I feign a bit of happiness so that those
who cannot see past its veil, will justly
believe that I’m alright, but then there
are few who know better

and now to no avail, I have tried conjuring
the ghost while growing increasingly weary
of what I seek, wouldn’t it be perfect if when
we made a choice that didn’t work out quite
in the way we expected the previous would
return without question like nothing contrary
had ever happened?

said the one holding nothing, it doesn’t work
that way! when you let go you let go, there
are no do overs, no punch backs, no mulligans

and to the ones who were not chosen, and still
hope for happily ever after, you’re standing at
a crossroad called happily never after.

Katovski 2017