When is it time to let go?
The past few months have dealt me a tragic hand in romance.
Three Jesters - no Kings to be found.
Early November brought Jester number one. A golden-haired trickster arrived in a big blue bus and won me with one big toothy grin. A traveling heartbreaker in disguise. Waterloo, Toronto, New York, we saw them all together. Writing I miss yous in between, planning our next great escape. He suddenly vanished - swallowed up by the midwest - never to be seen again. I once thought him the Russell to my Penny Lane - he's the door I wish I didn't have to close - and still can't.
Jester number two was young and beautiful. Possibly too young and too beautiful for my jaded heart. A lovely beginning, so much too soon. Somehow I knew he would hurt me in the end - so I began self-sabotaging in my head - how could I fuck it up first. In the end he won the race after all - with a swift pull of the rug. A gypsy soul and a wandering heart - I was not a home for him, just another stop-over on a long journey. I've forgiven - but find it hard to forget.
Jester number three has been popping in and out for years. A habit never broken - a familiar face, a welcome distraction. Always a pleasure, always delight, always a comfort, but never a constant. Sometimes I feel like a secret, a mistress of convenience. Yet I won't end it - why won't I? What is this dance we're doing? I suppose he'll be the one that got away - many many times.
I can't help but wonder... has the deck been rigged?
The past few months have dealt me a tragic hand in romance.
Three Jesters - no Kings to be found.
Early November brought Jester number one. A golden-haired trickster arrived in a big blue bus and won me with one big toothy grin. A traveling heartbreaker in disguise. Waterloo, Toronto, New York, we saw them all together. Writing I miss yous in between, planning our next great escape. He suddenly vanished - swallowed up by the midwest - never to be seen again. I once thought him the Russell to my Penny Lane - he's the door I wish I didn't have to close - and still can't.
Jester number two was young and beautiful. Possibly too young and too beautiful for my jaded heart. A lovely beginning, so much too soon. Somehow I knew he would hurt me in the end - so I began self-sabotaging in my head - how could I fuck it up first. In the end he won the race after all - with a swift pull of the rug. A gypsy soul and a wandering heart - I was not a home for him, just another stop-over on a long journey. I've forgiven - but find it hard to forget.
Jester number three has been popping in and out for years. A habit never broken - a familiar face, a welcome distraction. Always a pleasure, always delight, always a comfort, but never a constant. Sometimes I feel like a secret, a mistress of convenience. Yet I won't end it - why won't I? What is this dance we're doing? I suppose he'll be the one that got away - many many times.
I can't help but wonder... has the deck been rigged?
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1 comment:
Wow I found this blog by looking for joker cards in google (for a tattoo) and this one causht my eye, and i have to say, you have a very good way with words.
-Luke
x
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