Poems by Patricia Petro

CLICK FOR LARGER VIEW

The woman was me
broken and bleeding
from needing to see him
hurt deep within
reeling and feeling
my life’s up in smoke

each hazy day in shades
of black to gray
like ashes from a hit
I wanted to quit
I’d say
this is my last

try to mend fences
broken by mistake
—What would it take
      for him to respond?—
chances were slim
it was plain to see
he was content with his life
without me in it

but each letter written
like a baby’s first steps
led to another holding fast
I had to know the reason why
he was being so cold
I missed him so

I wouldn’t let go
just couldn’t get past
his final plea
. . . I don’t want this to be goodbye . . .

I thought he meant it, silly me.