Shakespearean sonnet

Fireworks



If mirrors could cry you would drown.

I hold onto that precarious hand

that isn’t mine anymore, since the last time you got around.

And this is the last time you’ll hear from me, Maryland.



Call me whatever you care to say, call me a fag, call me gay.

If I were less of a man I’d call you a cunt or a whore or

whatever you want my dear, do you remember your negligee?

And how it was too small but you wore it regardless. You fucked me like a chore.



This time I’m stealing from you.

I’m taking your worthless gold since you don’t have a heart anymore.

And I’ll kiss your chapped lips and whisper adieu.

I’ll wipe my eyes clear and walk away, gently closing the door.



My heart is all ashes.

And there’s a lighter in my pocket full of fluid and your curled eye lashes.