May Hem

I let you break my heart time and again

---and this is just as much my fault as it is yours

Forgiveness is, in and of itself, some kind of deep rooted flaw

---and forgetfulness sits tandem in the catbird seat

Apparently, I had been suffering from some kind of masochism

---a silent but deadly disease that had become an epidemic in these parts

It was years and years ago,

on a wild night in May,

that you took your radicle and laid claim

---if only I knew, I could have learned to settle for a steady and muted happiness

And all this time,

you were merely

---a weed