Checkmate Liberal

“Facts don’t care about your feelings.”

That’s what they say,

Though I’m beginning to realise:

Feelings don’t care about my facts.

It’s over,

I know it’s over,

I know why it’s over,

It’s for the best.

And yet,

There’s this weight I’m carrying with me.

This dull ache,

This grey filter over everything I do.

And I know what that is, too.

She hurt me like I’ve never been hurt before;

A week later I’d thought her into oblivion.

So now there’s a monkey on my back,

And I know I’d better invite him for tea,

Sit with him for a while,

Cry into my teacup.

Because he’s not going away,

Try as I may.