the last time was the last time in a long series of last times

just another broken hearted broken promise that only promised he’d grow more broken as time passed

but no matter the matters that so shook and shattered he found the strength to try try again

a testament to ageless stupidity

but if he changed the one thing about himself he knew was the only thing about himself that was worth a damn

his ability to love

with every fiber of his being

what did that make him then

he swore as he crouched to the floor in a pile of heart dust and dreamstuff that one more would be the end of him

that was five or six ago

he did better this time, went nearly a year, made his heart disappear but the other feelings swooped in and filled up his lakebed of emotional repress

and how he wasn’t prepared to weather the storm whether he caused it or not as he battened the hatches he was battered by hatchets

but alas the poor fool perhaps thinking he had fooled himself was foolishly sure of the unsure so assuredly that suddenly he found himself back where he began

this is the last time he muttered for what was, in his mind, the last time even as past indicators indicated it most likely was just another series of foolhardy next times

so gather your buckets, your brooms and your mops for the way his heart flutters and starts and it stops, it seems he has gone and done it again, the thing he swore over and over not to do with venomous refrain

it more than likely won’t end well, end up tossed into a well, a dry spring where hope once sprang eternal, now another dusty monolith to daydreams infernal

but what can he do, it’s all that he knows, and when it’s really not what he knew, but more of what he has done

to himself, irregardless of himself, for himself

so he fights against feelings he feels and he fought, binds his heart and eyes from the things he has sought, and just slowly steps off of the cliff where he sat, and smiles as he falls when he should have just stopped

don’t pity the fool, he was warned after all, by himself, by herself, by all at the ball as he ran into the wall and still couldn’t deny the synergistic thrall of her sweet siren call

and still through it all, of all he could recall, a certain serendipitous means to this fall, of stars lining up, of the start and the stall, she was his drug and he tired of having withdrawal

silly fool with foolish dreams, the half-hearted stitches that stressed his heart at the seams

maybe this is the last time as he plummets through space, the rocks growing closer as he picks out a place

but for now he soars like a penguin, an emu, an ostrich

the graceful lack of grace of flightless indigenous idiocy incarnate strapped to a rocket

just another heavy hearted plea to the heartless heavy sea, in the weightless weighted breeze of what may never be

godspeed captain courageous, we wish you well