Persephone

by Linda M. Crate

you're Hamlet
i'm Ophelia
let me die in my flowers
peacefully
wilt into the hyacinth's
be Eliot's girl
you drive to madness
from which i don't know i'll
ever heal,
why did you have to choose me
when you knew we were wrong for one
another completely?
just a notch etched into your bed post
another trophy of your lust;
broke with your distance
your lies
insincerity,
and your ghastly betrayal
made me wilt into the sky a trail of
crimson tears
you probably ignored as you
made love to your new girl
i hope she tastes
of pomegranates,
stains you with memories of me.