© I’m Sorry You Walked Away

When You Lose Love:

MYTH: The pain of losing love will go away faster if you ignore it.

Fact: Trying to ignore your pain or keep it from surfacing will only make it worse in the long run. For real healing, it is necessary to face your sadness (or grief) and actively deal with it.

MYTH: It’s important to be “be strong” in the face of loss.

Fact: Feeling sad, frightened, or lonely is a normal reaction to loss. Crying doesn’t mean you are weak. Letting your true feelings show can help you.

MYTH: If you don’t cry, it means you aren’t sorry about the loss.

Fact: Crying is a normal response to sadness, but it’s not the only one. Those who don’t cry may feel the pain just as deeply as others. They may simply have other ways of showing it.

It’s nearly two in the morning.

Come take advantage of me.

I’m on my third cup of coffee

After chugging a bottle of wine.

I already threw the empty at

The email I was writing to you

To show you I was drunk... and vulnerable.

Don’t you want it?

You used to want it.

You used to want me.

I’m sorry it took me too long to realize it.

I’m sorry I will never send that email.

I’m sorry I’m willing to degrade myself

Just to get you

To come back,

To touch me,

To tease me,

To stay here — with me.

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

(the photo is not mine. It is the property of the owner)

Mimi-Mona Poetry: Would It Be Outrageous To Say—

True romance can be achieved even if, somehow, you're the only one who knows; you've just got to dance the dance even though the lie takes a lot less time, and the clean coming will hurt...especially when you're eating breakfast at the heartbreak hotel where there's dirt beneath the dirt. Where's your hiding place?

©Would It Be Outrageous To Say—

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

At the beer-ring stained bar

beneath the odoriferous,

cigarette-stained ceiling,

Lucinda Magenta’s broad ass

hugged and balanced on

the three-legged,

wooden bar stool,

her smoke rings wreathing

her head on their way up;

life was complicated.

Max Zwack, the twenty-something

high-school loser had

dropped out, started

his own band, and drunkenly

swigged from the only bottle of

one-hundred-forty-five-thousand-

dollar Macallan, 1946,

in existence; it’d make

his daddy proud...

life was complicated.

The gold rush was over

and it became everybody’s joke, so

saying it didn’t change the way

it was when your jig-saw girl

waltzed away leaving you watching

and realizing her love was

no longer in bloom, and your

ending didn’t sound like

the happiest around; admit it—

life was complicated.

Never look up and never

look ‘em in the eyes

was the only sober

piece of advice from

the voice in your head,

and you knew how long

you’d been waiting and

what you had been through

while you were high on life,

life was complicated.

Mimi-Mona Poetry: She Doesn't Need Welfare Love

©She Doesn't Need Welfare Love

Mimi Wolske, May 2014

Mimi Wolske-Mona Arizona™

All Rights Reserved

Losing love hurts worse than being catheterized...

you can't take love's temperature

every five minutes

to see if the fever's gone down.

Don't mind if she falls apart,

there's a bigger painting to be completed

before the rain dries in white heat.

Descending to

six

                        thousand

                        feet

to drop the we-need-to-talk bomb—

For God's sake! just do it!

Satisfaction guaranteed.

We all suffer...

Everything echoed her dilemma;

And she's starving when all around her exist on a smorgasbord of

Make Love Not War on propaganda

or the child who waves its arms as though

digging its grave in the air.

Stir and repeat—

It isn't you it's me it isn't you

echoes from every wave in an ocean of netted fish.

Small cameras others keep in their eyes

click away at the farewell party

Fare Thee Well...Fare Well?

Well Fare....

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