Discarded manifestations of perfumed starry nights and forgotten posies.
Sour memories of things that were never really there.
Illusionary leads to self-dysfunction,
This charge to rally the heartbroken and weary to summon-up Courage,
Takes it’s toll, each turn of the page.
Such destruction lay strewn.
Mirrored glass shards, the brick thrown.
I truly must stop reading Self-Help Romance novels,
they offer more delusionary misfits than I can handle
on this raw evening spent in front of the fire
with a bottle of Chardonnay
and a box of Kleenex.
T10 Plot Thickens, Thursday: