Medusa

There is too much pain

To write a poem,

A prose

A single line.

My tears fall like crystal gems

But it is anything but pretty.

The sobs build in my throat

But I refuse to release them.

Abandonment is bitter,

But expectation and failure is far worse.

I wonder every day

What could have happened?

And what can I do,

To make it right?

I will sit and wonder this

Until my heart turns to stone

And my body calcifies

Under the constant drip of my mineral tears.

One day, perhaps

This will only be a memory.

But I wonder if I will ever recover

From the trauma

Of disappointing those whom I love.