We broke up, but I wanted to stay in
your arms; I didn’t want things to change. But
we DID break up, and so I cried; true pain,
the anguish, it became anger and lies.
I had to live without you or your love,
something we promised we would never give
up. And since, by now, I was above cries,
my heart began to spew more evil sighs.
…
Until, I found that my own arms weren’t
so bad; in fact, there was more love to be
had. And so, after awhile, I packed
up and moved on; and, I was glad that I
had gone. For, if love should rebel against
me so, then, truth, better Love will I know.
Italian Sonnet, Copyright of Jessica Anne McLean, 2009, all rights reserved.
The Rose 
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