I’d sever that if I could.
With scarcely a thought.
Without hesitation or remorse.

That phone call from him.
This gut feeling I can’t shake.
That persistent ache.

This insecurity, that
unwanted interloper,

that buttery, confident
voice from your past life
remodulated to haunt this present,
and cast a pall upon our future.

That unsolicited, slithery
prevarication from this
beautifully brittle, but
well-worn bliss of you and I.  

And I’d cut it all out like
malignant cells if I could,

that image of you taking his call
on the cell I bought you implicitly
for talking only to me in that way

 – blushing, playfully coiling
those curls around your finger,
reminiscing on what became
of that cold-calling old flame,

enveloping one another
in velvet nostalgia,
despite my dour, grim,
glowering, not so subtle,

eavesdropping within
the other room you just left,
as if that made it private,

with scarcely a care to spare
to hold space for these
fragile sensibilities

and looming loyalty, now blooming
evergreen with jealousy;

holistically, I’m no longer me
anymore, but some invasive species
lurking in the margins of my own life

seeking to sever that bond of old
before its healing takes hold,
taking away from our this.

And I am wholly willing to snuff-out
a love, love-love, love-love like that
for all time, no matter the reasoned,
seasoned antics, or poetic acts of

treason, be it metered, stressed crimes,
imperfect lines, or slanted rhymes.

Truthfully, I am resolved
to edit this ruthlessly,

lest that love somehow lingers
long enough to diminish mine.

© BJ Dawson — 2026

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Barry’s new chapbook, jagged remnants of you, is available for global distribution, and can be purchased on Amazon, on Lulu in paperback and eBook, and soon, wherever books are sold.

Tips are always welcome.