Stained Monochrome Wings

Expired

03-20-13

At one point I was your beau,

my expiration date has past

and now I have to go.

Chop it up,

this fragile heart,

fucked up from the start.

The somber

tick tock

of the clock

a murky hour-hand;

stiffly counting seconds.

It’s fragmented and distorted.