You matter.
You do not have to experience this, alone.
Lover’s Squander...
I feel so much rejection,
In your haste
I feel cast down…
Unseen…
Thrown into your can of waste.
You stripped me,
And then you said “no, I am chaste”.
I reached for you,
Your pillow was empty.
You were gone …
You were gone, to her place.
My heart ached,
My soul turned into paste.
©2012 jan leree