Site Navigation
Information
Prose
Poetry
Art
On the Stump
Serials
Question of the Week
About the Authors
Links and Awards
Message Board

Mary Bullard
Reflections of an ex-virgin removed and reconnected with reality

He’s lying there next to her
Saying one thing and meaning
12 others
she can’t touch him, it’s salt in his wounds
but he’s all over her bleeding heart
don’t blame it on me he says
its not my fault

what a self-absorbed fool
hell her problems go way back
there’s no way he’s that cool
this goes way beyond what they did
in or out of the sack

But he thinks he’s wrong, hell-bound, fiendishly-cruel
Since he can’t get beyond his head or his dick
he’s convinced she thinks so too
So while she lies there humming a nursery song
He pulls out his sins for her to review

Sure he took away a pipe dream
But that’s all it was in the grand scheme of things

Welcome to the real world
Two decades later
Finding out shining white knights don’t exist
In this bombed out crater
Hate him?
No, what would that do
Now she can see what’s really true

He’s just a loser and a user and
Somewhere down there a good person too
Running from his pain
Letting it crash into her
Wanting desperately to relieve himself of the strain
Of a conscience weighed down by present and
Whatever remains of his past

Too bad for him its not that easy
To get rid of the queasy reign of guilt
He’ll just have to outlast
All that makes him uneasy
He can’t drip dry on her
the blood that’s been spilt

Cause she’s way too fast
Oh so much quicker than he knows
Like a phoenix from the ash
From the bed her soul rose
She’s out beyond the stars now
Drifting in a vacuum of black and light
Pitying the two of them from afar
Rediscovering inner sight

Want to respond to this poem? Do it here!

Return to Poetry