Contributor: Jardin DeMerci

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Still my wife
Already his girl.

He harvests her “love you's”
But it's me making her scream.

They plan a happy future with his kids
But it's me planting seeds.

Hope he feels me
When he someday tries to fill
All the spaces I've left behind

Hope he feels me
Finds frustration in his thrusting
Shows his true colors
Leaves them both dissatisfied.

Still my wife,
Already his girl.

But I'm no better.
Another woman
Already holds my heart.

The shadow in my bed?
Just a vessel to fill.


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Cubical poet with a haunted past.